By Our Strength
by NyleveLlama
Summary: Arthur Kirkland comes from a strict aristocratic family, his only happiness is his servant Alfred. But fate has a different plan for these individuals and they must learn to face the frightening, and even ominous, challenge of their future as rulers together. Cardverse AU, USUK. Rated T for violence and suggestive content.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I.**

Despite having a comfortable life Arthur Kirkland never really did have a happy one. He wasn't ungrateful, just unhappy. He was thankful for a warm bed every night, plenty of food, and he was especially thankful for his books. Part of the problem resided in his brothers. It was a trait of the Kirkland family to fail to show affection, so much so that Arthur soon became convinced his family never really loved him. But the treatment he received from his brothers went too far, they were bullies and ignorant boys. Still, Arthur tried to console himself in the fact that his life could be very much worse. Alfred was a testimony to that.

Arthur's boots padded the stone floor of the kitchen softly, a book tucked safely against his chest. He glanced outside the door leading toward the stables before nicking a fresh apple from a collection of fruit that awaited to become a pie. Assuring himself that the coast was clear, he made his way swiftly across the yard toward the woods beyond. Yet as he passed the stables he couldn't help but indulge the impulse to peek inside. As expected, Alfred was there. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows as he worked, the rough shirt stained from labor. The brown trousers were obviously a secondhand pair and held up by suspenders. Yet the baggy, dirty clothes couldn't diminish how attractive the young man was. Alfred was tall and muscular, his shoulders broad and his skin tanned from the sun. His hair was the color of wheat, a few strands were stuck to his sweat-covered forehead. His lips, which were normally curled in a smile, were pursed as he was whistling a cheerful tune to himself. Arthur watched him work for a moment, finding the sight oddly peaceful. He had grown fond of Alfred since they had met as children, even if he found the enthusiastic boy irritating at times. But he couldn't suppress a wave of sympathy every time he remembered that night many years ago. Arthur was pulled from his thoughts as he heard a voice speak his name.

"Are you going riding today, Arthur?"

He looked up to see Alfred paused in his work, leaning a little against the pitchfork with a casual smile. His blue eyes were focused on Arthur's, which made heat rush through his body in a tidal wave. Arthur quickly looked away, glancing down at his own attire. Today he had decided on a loose white blouse with a simple cravat and forest green vest, a darker green for the tight pants and tall black boots. It was a light outfit which suited Arthur's needs for that day perfectly. But he could understand why Alfred had mistaken his intentions.

"Ah no, not today," he lifted the book in his hand to show Alfred. "I thought I'd just walk to the creek and read."

Alfred's smile spread wider and he nodded. "It's a good day for that. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone where you are," he said cheerfully as he turned back to his previous work. "Mr. Kirkland and your brothers went out for business. They won't be back for a couple of hours."

Arthur sighed in relief. He knew he could trust Alfred to keep his word and he was always grateful for his consideration. Alfred knew how he was treated and sympathized so he let Arthur sneak away whenever he wished to have time to himself. Occasionally Alfred would even join in, grinning and laughing like a misbehaving child. Arthur shook his head as he left the stables and took a bite of the sweet fruit. Alfred was still a boisterous young boy.

* * *

 _It was raining that night, the drops hitting Arthur's bedroom window in a soft tune to lull him to sleep. He was only a child himself, just having turned nine years old a few days before. What aroused him from his dreams that night was the commotion below; the sound of muffled voices and rapid footsteps walking around the house. Arthur wasn't sure was urged him to get up, he could have easily rolled over and gone back to sleep. But he sat up abruptly and threw off his warm covers, shivering at the spring night air as it woke him completely from sleep. He padded softly down the stairs in the dark as he followed the warm light that flooded from the lamps in the kitchen. Arthur froze in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat at the sight he found before him._

 _A child was huddled on a stool by the fire, his hair dripping and his ragged clothes soaked from rainwater. His eyes were focused on the floor as he shivered and sobbed pitifully. He looked no more than five years old. One of the maids was wrapping a dry blanket around his shoulders as Arthur's father, Mr. Kirkland, knelt before the small boy. Arthur could hear his father's voice rumble across the stone floor of the kitchen, his tone stern but gentle. It shocked him, he had never heard such affection in the man's voice._

 _The maid caught Arthur a moment later and shooed him off to bed again. Arthur glanced into the kitchen one last time and he stared in surprise as his eyes met sky blue orbs._

* * *

Arthur tossed the apple core into a compost pile as he walked back to the Kirkland manor. He knew better than to push his luck and stay out all day. His father wasn't fond of Arthur's habits of running off without a word and Alfred had been kind enough to give a warning as to when the man would return. Arthur entered the house and went up to his room just as the sound of the carriage wheels rattling on the stones in front of the house could be heard. He approached the window cautiously, taking care he couldn't be easily spotted behind the thin sheers.

Two heads of flaming red hair appeared out of the carriage, which Arthur identified as his brothers Allistor and Patrick. Each brother climbed out as servants, Alfred among them, attended to the horses. Arthur watched his third brother, Dylan, appear before his father finally stepped out. The man had ashy blond hair like Arthur with dark bushy eyebrows. But he was tall just as his brothers were tall, ending the similarities between the father and his youngest son. Arthur wasn't like them at all. He didn't want to be.

He turned as he heard a soft knock on his door and his mother entered. Her auburn hair was swept back elegantly into a bun, her face round and gentle, her complexion was as fair as Arthur's. She smiled at him as she stepped beside him at the window.

"Did they leave you behind again?" She asked.

Arthur snorted and placed his book on the nearby desk. "Mother, I could care less where they go as long as they leave me be."

Her green eyes glinted in amusement as she examined her son. "Arthur, you can't spend the rest of your days hiding in the corner with a book. You're a gentleman, you must go out with your brothers and make a name for yourself. Do sports, go to parties, meet some fine ladies your age."

"I don't care for sports or social events," Arthur frowned stubbornly and moved away from the window. "I don't understand why I can't simply make a living for myself if you're concerned for my future."

The lady turned and gently grabbed his hands, stopping his motion. "Your father and I wish you to be happy, we truly do. But you will not go far without our help. We're trying to do what's best for you."

Arthur sighed. He had heard this lecture countless times, the words were practically carved into his brain. He met his mother's eyes, reluctantly acknowledging her words. "I know."

She gently squeezed his hands before releasing them and walking smoothly to the door. "Do freshen up for dinner."

* * *

"The search for the next rulers has begun."

Arthur could practically see the heads at the table turn toward the voice who uttered those words even though he kept his own eyes lowered to his dish. His brothers seemed especially attentive at their father's announcement, making Arthur lose interest in the topic quickly.

"Shall we arrange an appointment to be inspected?" His mother asked, daintily patting the corner of her lips with a napkin before she spoke. "It's very likely at least one of the rulers will be an aristocrat."

"Yes, I've already arranged it."

Now Arthur raised his eyes to look at his father seated at the head of the table. Mr. Kirkland sat with a straight back, his expression indifferent despite the momentous news. But something in his posture disturbed Arthur, Mr. Kirkland knew more than he was saying.

Apparently Arthur wasn't the only one to notice this.

"Do you think someone in our family will become one of the next rulers?" Allistor, the eldest son, asked.

"There has yet to be a time where the three rulers of the kingdom wasn't from a family such as ours," Mr. Kirkland stated as he scanned the table. His eyes examined each of his sons critically save for the dismissive glance toward Arthur. "I was told once long ago that one of my children would rise to greatness."

Arthur turned his attention back to his plate and pushed a bit of lamb with his fork across the china. It was a story he hadn't heard his father speak of often. Those with the gift of prophesy were rare and often sought for by all, especially by those who wished to determine future rulers by whatever means. Mr. Kirkland had been very lucky to have simply met such a person, even more so as they had revealed themselves to him. But when asked for more details concerning his encounter Mr. Kirkland would press his lips together tightly and speak no more.

The chances that the prophesy Mr. Kirkland received was actually about the future ruler of the Kingdom of Spades was very high. If Arthur had been in that position he didn't doubt he'd feel the same way. But, as a matter of fact, he didn't believe it. Arthur didn't want to believe that any of his brothers would come into such unrivaled power. The thought alone made his stomach churn uneasily. Allistor was smart and he had some sense of leadership as he was the eldest but he was without tact, in the political game he'd most likely start more wars than solve tensions. Patrick, the second eldest, was unsuited in the most basic of terms. He was far more brash than Allistor was, so much so Arthur didn't even want to consider the possibilities of what would happen if he were to rule. Dylan was milder in character and on first glance he might seem likely. But Arthur knew better. He was far too lax in all regards and he had no ambition except for a simple, quiet life. As for Arthur himself, he didn't want it. He wanted to make his own way in life without the burden of royalty.

Each kingdom had a unique system as to how their rulers were chosen and the Kingdom of Spades was the most irregular of them all. Instead of royalty through birth the rulers were chosen by fate. Or, at least, by some mystical force. No one knew how it was possible but it was rumored the Kingdom itself chose a person who would best fit the needs of the people. Anyone could be chosen at anytime, regardless of gender and class. The only thing that mattered was the subject had to be born into the nation. When the time came a mark would appear on their body, clearly signifying royalty and their position. The King was the most supreme ruler, he or she would have absolute power and command over all. The Queen typically focused on internal issues within the kingdom, presenting the people's needs to the King. The Jack was to be the trusted companion of both rulers, to support and assist wherever and however they were needed. It was a sound system that had led the Spades through many troubled times in the past. But now Arthur was starting to think fate had made a grave mistake if it put its trust in the Kirkland family.

The rest of the conversation at the dinner table was blocked out by Arthur's thoughts, he was vaguely aware of his mother arranging plans and his brothers debating who would be chosen and what they'd do if they were the ones. As the family stood after the meal, Arthur automatically began to turn to make his way to his room for a quiet evening but his father stopped him short.

"I'd like to speak with you, Arthur," Mr. Kirkland brushed past his youngest son as he walked towards his private study.

Arthur felt his spine stiffen as he followed, seeing his mother glance in concern as Patrick smirked. No doubt his brothers could see he was in trouble. It wasn't hard to guess Arthur would receive a stern lecture yet again. Despite the numerous times Mr. Kirkland had spoken with him before, Arthur could never suppress the pain in his chest from his rapidly beating heart. However he forced to keep his head held high. He wasn't a coward and he would keep his composure. If his parents wanted him to be a gentleman then a gentleman they would get.

Mr. Kirkland walked toward the back of the the room before turning to face his son. Arthur closed the heavy door behind him, resisting the overwhelming urge to run. He knew he had to face his father whether or not he wanted to.

"Your mother cannot account for your presence during the hours I was in town today, neither can any of the servants," his father began.

Arthur felt a brief flash of relief and worry for Alfred. Obviously, the boy had kept his word when he promised he wouldn't tell anyone of Arthur sneaking out. But it hadn't occurred to Arthur until now what a high risk it was for Alfred, he could lose his position on the Kirkland manor for lying to his master. Inwardly Arthur rebuked himself for his selfishness before focusing back on the situation at hand.

"I know you ran off on your own again and I'm very displeased with this behavior. Perhaps when you were younger it would be acceptable but you're twenty-three years old, Arthur. It's unsuitable and this habit needs to stop." Mr. Kirkland had been stuffing his pipe with tobacco as he spoke, he paused now to light the weed and take deep puffs. Once smoke began to drift around his head he turned his hard hazel eyes toward Arthur again. His look was so intense Arthur felt physically winded as if he had received a punch in the stomach.

Arthur forced the air back into his lungs and stood taller. "Father, with all respect, I am an adult. I wish to make my own way in the world. If you would let me dictate my own activities then I solemnly promise I will be every part the gentleman."

"Activities?" His father's gaze never wavered, which only made his presence more terrifying to be in. "And pray tell what these activities might be?"

It was a bad idea to reveal his plans so soon and Arthur knew it. But he had been patient all these years and he knew he would have to make a choice eventually. Maybe now was the time to attempt to reason with his parents.

Taking a deep breath he began to speak. "Society is changing and the definitions of what a gentleman is able to do is changing with it. Some manners of trade are no longer a shame for the high class to partake in, in fact it's being encouraged. I'd like to invest in creating my own shop for literature and educational purposes."

"Those people are not respected, our family is known for keeping tradition. You would shame the entire family now and in the future."

Arthur flinched at the bluntness but refused to admit defeat. "Perhaps not. We will never know if you don't give me your blessing and allow me to try."

Mr. Kirkland's hand tightening around his pipe and his thick eyebrows lowered dangerously. "You fool."

Arthur felt his composure being ripped away at those harsh words, he stared vulnerably at the man before him in shock before tightening his jaw.

"Are you really that self-centered to think I'll let these ridiculous ideas continue, let alone encourage them? What you're asking for will degrade the entire family into eternal judgment, never to be respected! You're already dragging us down as it is with your childish behavior!"

Arthur swallowed tightly. "It is not childish, Father. Times are changing, if you just let me-"

"No!" Mr. Kirkland snapped, slamming his fist on the nearest table in frustration. "You have disappointed me countless times! No more! If you do not follow the tradition of this family I will disown you!"

Arthur stared at the opposite wall, biting his tongue until a bitter, metallic taste filled his mouth. He could feel hot tears tickle the corner of his eyes but he forced himself to breathe as steadily as he could. He would not cry. Suddenly he was filled with rage at the injustice of it all. He had been bullied and manipulated his whole life to the point of snapping. Enough was enough.

"You best disown me then. I'm not changing for your ridiculous standards anymore. I'd rather be alone and judged forever than tolerate one more day of being your son!"

Without being dismissed, Arthur turned and stormed out of the room. He could feel his father's anger burn behind him but he no longer found it in himself to care. He didn't make it far before his mother swept into view, her eyes growing wide as she took in Arthur's expression. Before he could protest she gently grabbed his face and made him meet her green eyes.

"I'll talk to him. Stay in your room. Do you understand me, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded numbly and Mrs. Kirkland quickly walked into the room he left. He took a shaky breath before climbing the stairs to his room. Yet again he was confronted but this time by his brother Patrick. The man had a sneer on his face as he stepped in front of Arthur, blocking his path and forcing him to stop short.

"You've done it again, Arthur. You're tearing us apart. You know you could've made Father and Mother proud of you but you're too thick to see that."

"Let me pass," Arthur growled. He felt the anger rise to his head dangerously, the inner beast was far from finished with its destructive wrath.

Instead of taking the warning seriously, Patrick smirked and only leaned closer. "You will never bring happiness to this family, Arthur. You're the black sheep in a field of snowy white. You'll never belong even if you tried."

Blood roared in Arthur's ears, muting everything else out as he threw caution in the wind. As a door creaked open nearby he drew back his fist and promptly punched his brother in the face. Pain filled his knuckles at the contact but he watched through tunneled vision of rage in deep satisfaction as Patrick's head was thrown back, causing the man to stumble from the force of the blow. Arthur felt his lips curl into the ghost of a cruel smile as he hoped he had broken his brother's nose.

"Oi!" Allistor was instantly at his side, pulling him away as he steadied Patrick. "Go to your room before I drag you back to Father. Believe me, letting you go is more mercy than you deserve."

Arthur instantly heeded those words and rushed into his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. The gravity of his situation crashed down on him in an instant and he covered his face in shame. If Mr. Kirkland was angry at him before then he was sure to be livid once he heard of this. Just as furiously and quickly as Arthur's anger had come it was gone, leaving the young gentleman emotionally drained and exhausted. He locked the door to his room before collapsing weakly on the bed, squeezing his burning eyes shut.

* * *

Late that night Arthur woke in a cold sweat. He shivered even though a feverish heat flooded his body. He groaned softly in irritation and tossed in his bed as an unpleasant itch formed on the skin of his left hip. The urge to scratch was almost unbearable so he dug his hands into the bed sheets, hoping the discomfort would pass. The sensation only worsened and, when Arthur sat up, nausea and light-headiness swept over him. He lay back down feebly, miserably accepting he had fallen ill. He shut his eyes again and settled on the bed, taking slow breathes. The minutes dragged by as the feeling gradually lost its intensity and he was able to drift back to sleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **So I began another story. Wee. It was just totally on impulse and once I started I couldn't stop. I think a story with an actually plot will help motivate me to update more often (and also my girlfriend, who is impatiently waiting for me to continue writing -I love you-).**

 **This is my first Cardverse fanfiction. Apparently USUK cardverse stories are really popular so I figured on a whim to give it a shot. Hopefully it's decent. I also found out that the "marks" of royalty thing was never canon but since I'm not creative I just went with what everyone else was doing...heh heh. But I'll put my own spin on it, don't ya worry.**

 **Just so no one gets confused:**

 **Allistor=Scotland**

 **Patrick=Ireland**

 **Dylan=Wales**

 **I believe that's all I have to say for now. Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I really appreciate feedback on my writing. I hope y'all stick with me until the next chapter (it gets better, I promise).**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II.**

Arthur did, in fact, receive the punishment of a lifetime for assaulting his brother. The next few days he barely had a moment to himself. Parties and social events were cluttered into his schedule, a nightmare of pleasantry and finery with false smiles and shallow conversation. It was Arthur's personal hell.

"If I have to deal with _one_ more dinner party I will shallow arsenic," Arthur bemoaned to the only person who ever really listened to him.

An amused smile tugged at Alfred's lips as he leaned against the other side of the wooden stall in the stables. "It doesn't sound so bad."

Arthur snorted as he brushed his horse. "Alfred, if you've ever had to socialize with dull cows under strict social standards where you will be mercilessly judged for your entire life then I think you wouldn't be saying that."

"Anything's better than shoveling horse poo everyday."

"I highly doubt that," Arthur stated with deep cynicism, unaware of how true his words would become in the future.

At the end of the horrid week was the Kirkland family's inspection for a royal mark. Arthur sat between Dylan and the carriage window, which he was looking out of rather than deal with the strained silence in the compartment. Since the night of his confrontation with his father, Arthur had developed a large rash on his hip. Most days it never bothered him but today of all days it was irritated, adding to the young gentleman's long list of things that made his life miserable. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and sighed.

Hopefully the inspection ceremony would be short and uninterrupted. Arthur wanted to return home as soon as possible. He knew his father expected his will to break and thus for him to cooperate with his parent's wishes but Arthur was stubborn. He could now see his parents would never give their blessings toward his ambitions and he knew he would never give those dreams up. There would be no compromise. Arthur was quite sick of his current way of life and concluded that he would have to change it himself. So, in his free time, he gathered a collection of maps and sturdy clothing to prepare for the long journey he would take that very evening after the inspection.

The carriage rolled to a stop of front of the Spadian Tarot temple. It was a beautiful place, white stone structures stood with columns covered with vines of green. It was a sheltered garden more than a place of holiness. The temple was just outside the palace, the mountain of majestic towers rising behind the modest building below. The structure was built around a small waterfall with a pool at the bottom, a legendary place. There the first rulers had bathed in that pool and their marks had been revealed by the pure water, rumored to be enchanted by the Tarot monks. Whenever a new ruler was needed, the subjects of Spade were to dip themselves into the pool to determine if they had a mark. Despite the coming and goings of rulers in one's lifetime the ceremony only happened once for people personally. After this Arthur would never have to worry about this tradition again.

He stepped out of the carriage and followed his family into the temple. Instantly he felt his shoulders relax, the place was quiet and soothing. A monk clothed in shimmering white robes bowed to them and silently led the family to a private chamber. It was a cozy place, a sitting room with overstuffed chairs and sofas. Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland sat together on one of these pieces of furniture as the monk gestured for Allistor to follow him. The eldest Kirkland son left the room without a second glance. Arthur lowered himself into a comfortable chair and let out a shaky sigh. He wasn't sure why a feeling of nervousness suddenly rose in him as he sat. He hadn't realized the gravity of the situation until now.

As it had been in the carriage, the room was still with silence but this one was more relaxed. Each person was focused more on their own thoughts rather than the hostility in the air. Arthur watched as one by one his brothers were gestured by a monk out of the room to be inspected. He decided he would like to come back to visit this place someday, it was tranquil and for the first time he felt like he could be at peace.

His turn came at last. Arthur stood and crossed the room to the waiting monk, feeling his parent's eyes spear his back. He followed the silent monk out of the room and down a long corridor, the light from outside fading further away with each step they took. Arthur was vaguely aware the floor had started to slant down a little. Finally they emerged into a dark white stone cavern that had glowing blue crystals embedded in the walls as the room echoed with the sound of running water. The pool was on the far end of the room, surrounded by a moss covered floor that silenced the sound of footsteps. Plain rocks lined the wall underneath the water; Arthur couldn't tell where the source of the water came from and where it drained, he could only see the rushing liquid sparkle in the light of the crystals as it fell.

He had been so distracted by the stunning beauty surrounding him that he didn't notice the blatant stares of government officials in the room. His green eyes lowered to them when he finally felt the stares and he bowed to them sheepishly. One of them sniffed haughtily in response. A monk smiled in amusement at the scene and stepped toward Arthur. His dark brown eyes were filled with wisdom, he carried himself gracefully and with authority. The monk untucked one of his hands from his long sleeves and gestured toward a curtain in the corner.

It took Arthur too long to realize what the man had meant and blushed instantly. The royal marks were peculiar, they could appear on any part of the body, which only made the search harder and awkward. There was once a royal with the mark printed on her face, another unfortunate man had the mark on his...

Arthur shook himself and stepped behind the curtain to undress. He decided he wouldn't look anyone in the eye for the sake of his own modesty. It was simply protocol. Taking a deep breath, he first peeked out. The wise monk noticed his hesitation and gestured for everyone to turn their backs, the officials did so with much rolling of eyes. Arthur supposed they were used to nudity at this point.

Once no one was looking, he stepped out as bare as a newborn baby. He blushed in shame as his fair skin practically glowed in the dark of the room. Footsteps muffled by the soft floor he made his way to the pool, hesitant before cautiously dipping his foot in. He gasped at the icy contact, it felt as if the water were biting into his very bones. Shivering, he forced himself forward and waded into the pool until it reached his waist. He turned to see the monk watching.

The man smiled reassuringly and gestured for Arthur to dip his entire body underneath. That caused a chill to run up his spine. If there was one thing he did not want to do it was to submerge in this freezing pit, especially since his toes were already numb. Arthur couldn't help the scowl on his face. _Bloody hell_.

It became obvious that the sooner he toughened up and did as he was bidden then the sooner he could get out of the pool. Steeling himself, Arthur took a deep breath and allowed his legs to collapse from underneath him. The cold ripped the air from his lungs painfully, his body was on fire at the intensity of the temperature. The moment was brief but it felt like ages before Arthur's head broke the surface as he sputtered and shivered. The officials were now watching him with bored expressions. It made Arthur want to growl as he waded back toward the edge of the pool. However, their expressions changed the moment he stepped out.

Arthur pushed his dripping hair back and shivered, waiting for them to inspect him, but when they made no approach he glanced at them curiously. Their stares made his body heat up in embarrassment but the emotion fled him as they dropped to their knees and bowed their heads, murmuring, "Your Majesty."

Shocked, Arthur's mouth fell open. All shame and the cold was forgotten, he barely noticed as the monk wrapped a warm towel around his shoulders. Green eyes turned down as he looked over himself and sure enough there was a mark on his left hip. It looked like a large tattoo, the color a purple blue in the shape of a Spade surrounded by thorny roses. It was the mark of the Spade Queen.

* * *

The rest of that day passed by in a blur as if Arthur were helplessly falling into the belly of the earth. The government officials insisted that guards follow him home as he transitioned from his old life to his new one. They had been gracious, and very reluctant, to let Arthur return to the manor to pack his personal belongings and bid his family goodbye. To be honest, Arthur only made that request in the desperation to cling to something familiar before it was completely torn from his grasp.

The rest of his family were just as shocked as he was but the only one who seemed happy about it was his mother. She was especially pleased to hear Arthur had asked to come home for one more night. The entire manor was in a frenzy, the servants packing his books and clothes as he and his mother determined what should be taken. His brothers never spoke directly to him, Arthur only caught whispers behind his back. It made him wish they would at least say those harsh words to his face rather than in secret but unfortunately they knew better than to directly insult their new Queen.

"Queen," Arthur breathed to himself as he watched a trunk with his books being carried out of his room and down the hall. Arthur found that hard to swallow. If he absolutely had to be a ruler why did he have to be the Queen? It made him feel ashamed as he pictured a brawny woman becoming the King and tower over him. True the positions weren't gender specific but a male Queen was uncommon, at least in this country. In the Spades Kingdom there had only been two previous male Queens and both had female Kings. Because of that it was biased belief that weak and useless men were given the position of the Queen. Arthur didn't want to handle more criticism than he'd already received from his father and brothers. Yet there was nothing he could do. After his coronation he was sure he would deal with the entire Kingdom's judgment to his dying day. That thought, above all, made him unhappy.

He found no privacy or relief anywhere he went, his throat became more and more constricted in the buzzing house. Arthur felt a deep despair lodge into the pit of his stomach, weighing him down with every step he took. The very idea that he was chosen by fate to be a Queen overwhelmed him. What would his life be like? Could he really ever be happy with this position? He could only pray another ruler would be found before he began his royal duties.

Arthur gnawed his thumb as he watch the wagon filled with his belongings roll away to be delivered to the palace. He had planned to run away tonight. He had wanted to travel far, far away and open his very own bookstore. It would be a lovely little place with nooks and crannies for people to read in uninterrupted with plenty of lighting and comfortable chairs. Perhaps he could discuss literature with some of his costumers over a pleasant cup of tea. Arthur had pictured a garden in the backyard, filled with lovely flowers, scented with useful herbs, along with a bountiful of healthy vegetables and sweet fruit. That was the future he had planned and wanted for himself. Now it was no longer a choice. Never before had Arthur felt so forced into an unjust situation as he did now.

A whimper tore at the back of his throat but he suppressed it. Arthur just knew he wouldn't make a good Queen even if he tried. No one could love him, his family had proven so already. But he could see no other option but to take up this cross. Run away now and he would forever be shamed in history for abandoning his duty to his people, a far worse shame than his father has ever threatened upon him.

A maid knocked on the door of his now mostly empty room and curtsied to him, announcing dinner. Arthur thanked her and took a deep breath to gather his wits. The government officials had asked the family to keep Arthur's new identity secret, they were very concerned that if there was some plot to assassinate a ruler prematurely they would strike now while his security was most vulnerable. None of the servants knew, they were made to believe that Arthur was being sent to a distant relative for a few months, so the maid addressed him simply as "Mr. Arthur". Arthur cherished the moment. He'd never hear someone call him that again, replaced instead by royal titles.

Once he felt confident enough to finally face his family he went to the dinning room. But, as it turned out, he truly wasn't prepared for the scene before him. Arthur froze as he noticed the seating arrangements of the table. Traditionally, his father sat at the head with his mother opposite. Alistor, being the eldest, would sit at his father's right with Allen to Mr. Kirkland's left. Dylan would be seated between Allistor and his mother as he was older than Arthur. Mr. Kirkland had decided that many years ago and he strictly forbade the arrangement to change to any petty reason. It was a show of rank and authority, the parents equal in their ruling of their soldier sons. But it was very different now. Mr. Kirkland sat in Mrs. Kirkland's place, the lady seated where Allistor had been and so on down the line, leaving the chair at the head of the table empty. Arthur was now the most powerful figure of authority in this room, in this nation.

It was ridiculous how quickly Arthur almost commanded his family back into their regular seats, the words were forming on his lips as his father glanced at him. Hazel met green for an icy moment. Arthur may be the next Queen but he was still expected to abide by his father's rules. Biting his lips to choke back his words, he crossed the room with as much composure as he could and sat at the table.

For several long uncomfortable minutes they sat in silence as their platters were served before them, the servant's confusion was clearly written on their faces. Arthur simply ate what little he could manage. It wasn't much at all as the sick feeling of panic rose in him again. He was going to be stranded into the unknown the next morning and this was the most horrendous meal he had with his family yet.

As a good lady ought, it was his mother that broke the silence in an attempt to soothe the tense atmosphere. "We're all very proud and happy for you, Arthur."

Arthur was forced to meet her eyes, she smiled in a gentle kindness but without much comfort. He crushed a pea underneath his fork as he debated an appropriate answer. "I'm honored to have finally please you."

Mrs. Kirkland visibly flinched as Allistor placed his knife down in his plate with force, causing a clatter to ring as harshly as Arthur's words had. It was hard to tell if she had reacted to the the speech or the disruption. Mr. Kirkland's expression remained carefully blank and he made no comment.

It wasn't a nice thing to say, the words could be so easily mistaken as a pleasantry. But, being in the family, they knew better. Arthur could see his brothers' reaction by the way they writhed under the piercing statement. Arthur had mercilessly reminded them of their treatment of him, how there was no pride and no happiness toward the youngest Kirkland son. Not even now did they hold such feelings and they never would. Arthur felt tears rise to his eyes but he quickly lowered them in the pretense of focusing on his food as he regained control. He didn't regret his words.

Despite the obvious rebuff of affection Arthur's mother persisted. "It is such a sudden change I worry you will miss home. Please let your father and I know if there is something that will keep you content with your new life."

Arthur nodded in acknowledgment but felt no need for words. It as if his family were pushing him out as quickly as possible and hoped that he would never return. They didn't care about his happiness.

As if she could read his thoughts, Mrs. Kirkland spoke yet again. "If you would like you can come back anytime, the manor will always be open to you."

At this, Arthur raised his eyes in shock. The lady at his side only offered a small smile before turning to her own platter. He could feel all the eyes in the room resting on him, their stares heavy with the judgment that constantly plagued him. Arthur struggled to keep his face blank but bile was quickly rising to the back of his throat as his breath quickened. He only managed to mutter an "excuse me" before he stood up and abruptly left the room.

It was too much for him. All of those years of being terrified of his father, ignored by his mother and bullied by his brothers this was too much. That fake affection, that belief they had tricked themselves into thinking they cared and that Arthur had a home. He felt his heart finally break, not through the harsh treatment he had expected but through the gentlest of words. He could withstand backbreaking torture but when offered a hand of false kindness he was without defense. What a mockery they made out of him! They thought him a fool!

Somehow he found himself outside, practically running blindly into the cold night air. His lungs filled with the open space of the country as he gasped desperately, hot tears streaking down his face. Arthur followed his instinct to hide away in an attempt to keep his privacy for as long as he needed and bolted for the stables. Once inside the barn he barred to door so no one could follow him in and threw himself into a hay bale, sobbing. He didn't know how long he lay in a miserable heap, shamelessly crying his eyes out, before he was aware of another presence in the stables.

"Arthur? What's wrong?"

Arthur's head snapped up in shock and he stared as his eyes met sky blue orbs, widened with concern and surprise. Alfred was sitting not too far from him, his head sprouting loose straw as if his hair was turning into a field of grain, his clothes were dirtied and rumpled from work and sleep. Arthur had never seen a more beautiful sight than this.

He blubbered as he sat up and struggled to stop himself from crying. This was no way for a gentleman, or a Queen, to act. But no matter how many times he told himself to shut up the tears wouldn't stop. Without warning, Arthur found himself pressed against a firm chest with warm arms wrapping around him comfortingly.

"It's alright, Arthur," Alfred murmured softly.

Never before had he been held so gently. Arthur buried his face against Alfred and cried freely, not caring how much dirt smeared on his own face. Never before had someone cared enough to soothe him from his pain.

"I-I'm the Queen, Alfred," Arthur said when he had calmed down somewhat.

He felt Alfred grow tense against him. "What?"

Arthur told him everything. He told Alfred what had happened when the mark was revealed, he told him how his family reacted, he told him about his ruined plans to run away, he told him how deeply afraid and alone he was. And Alfred listened. The servant boy never interrupted, unconsciously rubbing Arthur's arm as he stared at the dark wall opposite him. It was such a relief to know that someone was listening. When Arthur was finished Alfred didn't speak for a moment, obviously deep in thought.

"I think you're wrong," he finally said.

It was Arthur's turn to stiffen and he shot a teary glare up at the young man. "What do you mean?"

Alfred's sincere eyes lowered to meet his and instantly Arthur felt the temporary anger drain.

"I think you're wrong about you being a bad Queen," Alfred clarified. "I think you'll be a great Queen. You're smart and confident and strong. You're stubborn, once you decide something your mind is made up. But most of all you're good, Arthur. You know what it's like for people to not care so you know how to help thousands of people that feel the same way. Because you're a good person." He hesitated, his husky voice dropping to a murmur as his eyes moved from Arthur's gaze. "And, for the record, someone does care about you."

Arthur felt the whole world stand still as he forgot his troubles and his pain. He was only aware of the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest. All this time he thought he was unloved and yet Alfred had always stayed faithfully by his side. Alfred had kept his secrets and listened whenever he complained. Alfred had laughed with him and made him laugh in return. And now Alfred was giving Arthur something he hadn't felt in a long time. Arthur felt hope.

He exhaled slowly, breathing out the air he hadn't realized he was holding. Arthur reached up and gently cupped Alfred's rough cheeks in his hand, turning those eyes attention back to him.

"Come with me to the palace," Arthur whispered. "Come and stay with me, live with me so I won't be alone."

Alarm flashed across the young boy's face and his opened his mouth to protest Arthur's request.

"Please!" Arthur begged urgently. "Please, Alfred...come with me. As a friend."

At this, Alfred seemed to swallow his previous words as his is eyes looked through Arthur's, straight into his soul. He could see Alfred studying him in silence before a softness relaxed the servant's face against Arthur's palms.

"Alright," Alfred answered.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Bleehh this was more a filler chapter than anything else. But things will be picking up quickly, I didn't want the pace to feel too awkward and fast. But hopefully everyone enjoyed it for what it is.**

 **THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO FOLLOWED, FAVORITED AND REVIEWED! Seriously, thank you. I wouldn't be putting effort into this if I didn't know people liked it. I'll try not to disappoint. xD**

 **I kind of visualized the setting of the style and technology to be similar to that of the 1800s with the carriages and houses as well as the changing society. But I guess there's going to be a large mush of different cultures and eras into this universe. Eh...unimportant.**

 **Yes, the "Tarot monks" are a reference to tarot cards. I'll see if I can add in some development about that in later chapters, it's kind of a subplot thing.**

 **Okay, I think that's it for now. I don't own anything but my writing (forgot the disclaimer). Hope you enjoyed this chapter -more of Alfred to come-. Until the next update. *salutes***


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III.**

As the carriage jolted from yet another rut in the road Arthur swore his ass was about to fall off. Alfred, who was seated beside him, didn't seem bothered by it at all.

It had taken a very surprisingly small amount of effort to convince his parents to let Alfred go with Arthur. Mrs. Kirkland had been enthusiastic about the idea, knowing how the two had been childhood friends. Even Arthur's father seemed to find the idea appealing enough that he simply let the events occur without interrupting. It was the only true kindness he had ever allowed his son and Arthur took notice of it.

There hadn't been a lot of time to worry about his family after that evening. The royal carriage had arrived early in the morning and Arthur was suddenly very eager to leave the manor. Alfred didn't even have to worry about packing, he had no other belongings other than the clothes on his back. As the family gathered one last time Arthur simply bade them a hasty farewell and climbed into the carriage. Now he wished he could get out of the damn thing.

The trip to the palace in the heart of the city was quite a journey as the Kirkland manor resided on the further outskirts of the capitol. Arthur had once loved that fact about his previous home, it was away from the hectic life of the city in the peace of the woods and rolling green hills. Now it was just a pain in the ass. Literally.

Groaning, Arthur turned to look at his companion. Alfred seemed nervous, he remained uncharacteristically quiet as he stared intently at the passing country. His calloused hands were clasped together on his knees, the material of his pants beginning to fray in that area. Arthur frowned as he examined the servant more closely. He understood Alfred had nothing else but he made note to himself that this just would no longer do.

Alfred turned his head, catching the young ruler's gaze and blushed in embarrassment. "Heh, sorry I didn't have time for a bath," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head with a small grin.

Arthur briefly wondered how in the world the boy had managed to keep his teeth so perfect and white.

"It's alright. You'll be cleaned up at the palace," Arthur responded. He tried to keep his tone gentle to show he truly didn't mind but he doubted Alfred got the message. Little things like that tended to go over the servant's head.

"I was meaning to ask you about that," Alfred said slowly. He opened his hands and pressed his fingertips together in deep thought. "What exactly am I going to do when I'm at the palace? I'm a laborer, I don't belong in a fancy castle."

Arthur resisted the urge to gnaw his lip as he stared at those large hands. They were certainly beaten from heavy work and wouldn't be respected at all surrounded in grandeur. If he couldn't find a place for Alfred then he doubted he would see much of him again, which was not what he had wanted.

"I thought you might like to be promoted as my personal servant," Arthur said after thinking on it for a moment. At the boy's surprised expression the gentleman stumbled over himself and quickly added, "if you'd like to, of course."

Alfred laughed nervously as he considered the idea. "That seems a pretty serious position. I don't have any experience with that kind of thing. Are you sure you want me?"

There was no hesitation in Arthur's reply. "Of course I do, Alfred."

Alfred examined his companion's expression before glancing back out of the carriage window. Arthur was afraid he had said the wrong thing, he was asking so much of the poor boy after all. He began to feel guilty he had shamelessly begged the lad to come with him. In an attempt to find consolation for himself he had taken the comfort of another person. But when Alfred finally turned around once more, Arthur was relieved to see that there was no hurt in his eyes, only hesitation.

"But I don't know anything about being a ruler's personal servant," Alfred said.

Arthur smiled reassuringly. "I'll help you."

Those lips that were always smiling began to take their natural shape as Alfred looked at his superior in hope. "You will?"

"Yes," Arthur laughed. "I'll help you just as you'll help me. Does that sound fair?"

"Yeah," Alfred grinned, all doubt gone from his face.

"Good," Arthur chuckled as he settled into the blue cushioned seat. He winced as the carriage rocked from a bump and instantly he felt his patience wane all over again. The new Queen drew a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his temples and muttered obscenities to himself. Once he felt he had regained some composure he returned his attention to Alfred.

"I'm sure this trip would go much smoother if I were distracted. Keep talking, you're good at it."

"Alright," the taller blond laughed happily.

Many people found Alfred to be a nuisance, his talkative and energetic personality would test the patience of a mountain. Even Arthur grew exhausted of the young man's company from time to time but the green eyed man found it endearing. Alfred's laugh was loud but it was also a pleasantly rounded tone of merriment. When he spoke he riled himself into an excited frenzy, his eyes growing bigger as his grin expanded from ear to ear. The boy could never sit still, which proved problematic for the long carriage ride. His squirming and wild gestures, arms waving bodily, and the impatient rhythm he tapped with his feet was almost too much to bear in a cramped space. But Arthur was drawn in by Alfred's comical stories of his tricks and mistakes he had committed on the Kirkland manor. It was amazing mischievous prankster hadn't been sacked earlier.

"What a rascal you are," Arthur chuckled as Alfred finished his latest story.

At this point they finally reached the wall of the city, the road growing more crowded the closer they got to the gates. Alfred began to fidget terribly, itching to peek outside. Arthur couldn't blame him, the servant never saw much beyond the manor he was raised on. It made Arthur feel a little remorseful for him, he had spent his whole life stuck in the same place working backbreaking jobs every day since he was only five. The image of the sobbing child flashed in Arthur's mind eye as he recalled the memory of Alfred's first mysterious appearance.

"Alfred," Arthur decided to ask before he lost the chance as well as his courage. "When you first came to the manor you were very young..." he hesitated as his eyes met Alfred's curious expression, head tilted slightly with raised eyebrows. "I was wondering if you remembered anything from before coming to the manor...and how you got employment so young. Any person, including Father, would have taken you to an orphanage under normal circumstances."

Alfred's face grew blank as he stared at a spot just over the gentleman's shoulder. The topic was obviously sensitive and Arthur had clearly invaded his privacy. There was a moment of silence between them before blue eyes slid smoothly to meet green, steady and focused once more. Alfred's lips curled on a small smile but Arthur could tell it was a mask to keep him from reading the servant boy's true emotions.

"I'll tell you sometime soon," Alfred promised, his voice subdued. "We should focus on you settling into your new position, Your Highness."

The title had been an attempt to tease but Arthur felt a bitter dagger plunge into his chest. But he simply nodded, knowing he had dealt Alfred the first offense by asking personal questions. Even as a Queen he had no right to know such tender things when one was unwilling to share such information. Arthur resolved to apologize to the lad later as he inwardly heaved a sigh. It was not in his nature to be sorry and he was bad at showing regret.

Arthur's thoughts were brushed aside in an instant as he heard Alfred inhale sharply as their coach rolled through the city walls. He looked up as the servant practically leaned out of the carriage window in complete awe, the previous conversation forgotten. Arthur couldn't help the fond smile as he watched the boy's contiguous excitement.

Alfred had every reason to be amazed. The capital city of the Spade Kingdom was large with great domes rising out of a sea of towers and tiers. The poorest of the community dwelled on the border of the city but it was by no means dirty or revolting. The cobblestone streets were clean, the modest houses and shops were nestled close together as if if the building themselves were close friends. The streets were filled with people; sellers and buyers, children laughing as they romped around, men and women working steadily at whatever trade they were in. Arthur even caught sight of a young lady strumming a guitar and singing on one corner of the busy street. Most everyone was wearing an article of simple clothing that had a shade of blue in it, signifying their pride of their homeland. Some shops even had the nation's banner waving majestically over their doors.

The closer the carriage took them toward the castle, the more grand the buildings surrounding them grew. The streets themselves changed until they were filled with more carriages and had sidewalks so that the way was clear for traffic. More prestigious people roamed this area, their wealth shown in their clothing and composure although there was nothing horribly uptight about the middle class citizens, the smiles and friendliness could still be seen in these people as well. Ancient churches and banks appeared more often, shops grew fewer but Arthur was pleased to noticed respectable businesses were spreading to the higher class. On and on they rode through the middle and upper class section of the city and Alfred leaned out of the window further so he could turn his head to look up into the giant buildings above. Arthur once had to snatch his suspenders and pull him back inside for fear he would fall out. The boy barely paid heed, he simply stared with his eyes wide and mouth agape as if he were a child peering into a sweet shop for the first time. Arthur felt warmth and amusement at such an innocent expression.

Quickly enough Alfred's attention was drawn to the fast approaching castle in the heart of the city's wonders. Another wall separated the royal palace from the city and, although this wall wasn't as tall as the city wall had been, it was built for practicality and siege. Arthur knew for a fact it had four gates, all positioned precisely North, South, East and West. The South gate was the most grand out of the four, tall mahogany doors with silver metal decorating the shining maroon surface. The symbol of Spades was carved in the center of the doors so that, when it was opened, the sign would split in the center. As they drew level with the gates, Arthur glanced toward the West side of the wall where the Tarot temple was. There, in that serene place, fate had swept the rug from under his feet. The carriage moved when the grand doors swung open and Arthur felt his stomach flip in uneasiness. His new life was beginning and he was very unprepared for it.

Whatever Arthur had been expecting it wasn't the fine stretch of lawn with beds of beautiful flowers along the pebble drive. His breath caught in his throat as he saw stone paths meander all around the palace. Surely that mean there was a garden! The young man didn't have much time to ponder on it, however, before the coach stopped and their journey was finally over.

Alfred quickly hopped out and left the door hanging open, forgetting all duty as he blatantly stared at the magnificence before him. Arthur chuckled at the mortified faces of the nobles and government officials that were waiting to greet the new Queen upon his arrival. They hadn't expected a lowly servant boy in filthy clothing to pop out at them like a jack-in-the-box toy. Once Arthur felt able to control his giggles he followed Alfred out of the carriage, but at a more dignified pace. Green eyes lifted and then it was his turn to stand awestruck.

Arthur had seen the palace at a distance but now that he was up close he could clearly see that this was the crowning jewel of the capital. The castle seemed to rise out of the ground like a mountain, tiers stacked in perfect formation to support the entire structure, towers sketching thin arms to the high heavens. Windows, both clear and stained glass, could be seen dotting the walls as well as majestic statues of angels, warriors and gargoyles. The mark of the Spades could often be seen in the shape of the glass windows or in the stone of the palace. Arthur's eyes lowered and right before him were wide, white stairs that lead up toward the great entrance, the doors only a little smaller than those of the gates of the surrounding wall.

The nobles and officials were kneeling as Arthur finally came back to himself. One of the men in luxurious robes rose to his feet and approached, bowing at his waist before finally addressing his ruler.

"Your Majesty, if I might lead you inside?"

Arthur simply nodded his consent. He wasn't sure if he could speak from the lack of air in his lungs, the very idea that this was his new home took his breath away.

The man bowed again and began his ascent up the stairs with Arthur following. He was almost at the top when he realized Alfred hadn't joined him, the poor boy choosing to stay back instead. Rebuking himself for forgetting, Arthur stopped short.

"Wait, my servant," when he spoke the official stopped and turned as Arthur's voice echoed across the area loudly. "I'd like for him to be my personal servant. Can you see to it that he is unhindered and assisted as he prepares himself for his upcoming duties?"

The man raised a skeptical eyebrow as he glanced at Alfred by the carriage before bowing and saying, "of course, Your Majesty."

He gestured toward some high ranking servants, who bowed before quickly walking toward Alfred. Arthur sighed in relief as the matter was settled with no conflict, he had been concerned of protest to his wishes. But, as Arthur reminded himself while he walked into the main hall of the palace behind the official, he was Queen and his word was now law.

* * *

The official had given a grand tour of the palace, promising that if Arthur needed assistance all he had to do was say so. Arthur simply acknowledged this with a nod, he was more concerned about the mouse of a man himself. He was jumpy and eager, skipping sections as if to hasten the tour. No, Arthur realized, it _was_ poorly hidden haste. Something had happened and Arthur knew the official was impatient to see to the matter. When Arthur addressed this directly he thought the man might faint.

"This way, please, Your Highness," he whispered through whitened lips.

The official practicality scampered down a hall with Arthur close behind. The young royal was led to a private study, the room large but modest with bookcases and chairs scattered about. Inside were several solemn looking officials and—Arthur could barely believe his eyes—the wise monk from the Tarot temple.

"What is this?" The words leapt directly out of Arthur's mouth from his surprise. Had there been a mistake? Maybe they found out Arthur truly wasn't the next Queen.

They all turned and bowed at Arthur, the monk included. One of men rumbled an answer through his thick beard, "Your Majesty, last night the mark of the Spade Jack was revealed."

Arthur breathed a sigh a relief, he was afraid of having to carry the weight of all three positions when he was crowned Queen. He wasn't sure why he didn't feel disappointment that they hadn't found a mistake in his own mark.

"Ah, very good," Arthur muttered mostly to himself before raising his voice to address everyone present. "And who is the new Jack?"

The monk bowed low again, his thin brown hair which was pulled in a ponytail fell over his shoulder. "That would be me, Your Highness."

"I-I had no idea the monks could be chosen as a ruler," Arthur stuttered, not knowing what else to say.

The officials stirred uncomfortably, they were clearly unhappy with the development. The monk straightened up and met the young man's surprised gaze. If he had taken offense to Arthur's words or noticed the clear resentment from the officials then he didn't show it. His deep eyes only sparkled in quiet amusement as if he heard a joke only he could understand with his vast wisdom.

"They can, Your Majesty, but it has never before happened in history. The monks of Tarot are usually dedicated to another way of life with no bound nationality toward any of the four kingdoms, making the position as a ruler very inconvenient for all."

Arthur processed this information and nodded. It made sense, the monks were very withdrawn from worldly life and where usually despised for it. He stepped closer to his fellow ruler and extended his hand. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, as we are practically equals I would like you to address me by name."

The shorter man smiled and took Arthur's hand in a polite shake. "Very well, Arthur Kirkland. My name is Wang Yao."

As green eyes met brown something instantly sparked to life between them. The second Arthur felt their hands touch he was overwhelmed by a sense of trust. He knew it was the nature of the rulers but he hadn't expected it to be so raw and personal. Arthur realized that the Jack was the only one who understood the heavy weight on the Queen's shoulders, the only one who could connect with the man's loneliness. He could trust Yao to his very core and be confident he wouldn't be betrayed, both as a Queen and as a man. It was the most freeing feeling he had ever felt and he found himself respecting the new Jack.

An awkward cough pulled Arthur's attention to the awaiting officials. They had seen the satisfaction on Arthur's face and were clearly coming to the realization that there was nothing they could do to change the situation to their pleasing.

"Until the King is found we must postpone your coronation," the man with the beard proved to be their spokesperson. "But the Jack can be sworn into power as quickly and quietly as necessary. If Your Highness wishes we can do so right now."

Arthur glanced back at Yao questioningly. The brunette nodded in a silent answer and Arthur motioned to let the proceedings continue.

The official beckoned for a servant to retrieve some things before walking to a table to write out a document. It took long silent minutes before the man stood up to allow the ink to dry. The timing proved to be perfect, for the servant returned laden with a thick book and sword at that very moment. The book was obviously very old, the cover was plain brown and beaten from use. Carved into the leather was a Spade with the letter J in the center of the symbol. The sword look equally ancient, the padded hilt was falling apart and its scabbard was plain.

The bearded man balanced the heavy book in his right hand and held the sword below the guard upright with his left. His rumbling voice rose in volume as he addressed the room. "May all ye present bear witness to the oath of the Jack of Spades. Step forward, Jack Wang Yao, and place your hand on this book."

The former monk stepped forward as bidden, his long robes rustling as he moved, and placed his left hand on top of the book. The man before him recited the oath which Yao repeated.

"I, Wang Yao, Jack of the Kingdom of Spades, solemnly swear on this sacred book and on this noble sword to uphold and support the law and its makers. I swear upon the moon to use my wisdom to council and on upon the sun to bring justice and truth to this nation. Should I go back on this oath may the heavens strike me down and ban me into the pits of the grave."

After speaking those grim words Yao took the hilt of the sword with his right hand and drew it. Arthur had expected the blade to be dull and dimmed in age but was shocked to see the metal glisten with dangerous beauty. Yao lifted the sword and raised it in proper Spadian salute before kissing it. He gently returned the relic to its sheath and the official gestured toward the document on the table.

"Your Majesty, if you would sign that to prove you have been here to witness the oath ceremony of the Jack."

Arthur nodded mutely and quickly took up the pen, placing his signature on the parchment for all eternity. The Kingdom of Spades now had an official ruler and Arthur was no longer alone.

* * *

After the ceremony Arthur found himself walking down the vast halls alone with the new Jack. It was then that Arthur was informed that the Tarot monks dipped in the pool at night when no one else had made an appointment to visit. It was lucky indeed that Yao had been the first to try his luck or Arthur would have been alone for possibly weeks without a fellow ruler. It was a burden that was too tremendous to bear alone.

"Why hadn't they already sworn you into power if you've been here all night and all morning?" Arthur wondered.

Yao smiled, although it wasn't in merriment. It looked as if he had tasted something bitter but was trying to hide it. "The Tarot monks have never been highly favored but none loath them more than the unforgiving Spade officials. We have had many disagreements throughout history so they were trying to convince me to reject my position to make way for a ruler of their choosing."

"That's preposterous!" Arthur exclaimed. He had half a mind to march back to the study and slap those fools across the face.

Yao chuckled dryly at the Queen's furious reaction. "Yes, it was about to end in disaster before your arrival. It was clear from the moment you stepped into the room that you would reject their plans and probably dismiss them of their duties. They already fear you."

"They _should_ fear me," Arthur huffed and crossed his arms. He tucked away the information for later, perhaps it might be time to look into making adjustments to the government itself. After his anger faded he glanced curiously at the brunet man beside him. "How are you the Jack if you deny all loyalties to the Kingdom of Spades?"

"I'm not anymore," Yao answered easily and a little too quickly. "I was relieved of my position among the Tarot monks and am now totally loyal to this nation and to you."

"I see. I'm sorry," Arthur sympathized. He knew what it was like to be an outcast of the people who were supposed to mean the most to you. Even though he finally got away from the harsh treatment, it didn't mean the pain was lessened.

"It's alright. My fellow monks understood it was my duty and gave their blessings," Yao's smile turned softer, more sincere. Then a strange look glinted mysteriously in his dark eyes. "Besides, I've always been considered too restless to be a monk. Good day, Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur watched that man's back as he disappeared down a split corridor, left to wonder at the man's strange words.

* * *

It wasn't until late that night that Arthur finally managed to retire to his new chambers. He was guided toward a large tower and shown into an apartment of rooms. Arthur ignored the finery and simply sought the bed, collapsing on it in exhaustion. He felt as if his brain were about to explode from the overload of information he had been forced to memorize. How he would handle being Queen was beyond him. Arthur didn't have much time to think on it before sleep overtook him as if gentle hands were placing a warm blanket over his body while a comforting voice lulled him to sleep.

The next morning Arthur learned that the phantom blanket of sleep was physical, the sheet draped over his exhausted form. But he found it difficult to determine the identity of the voice of the ghost that had placed it there in the first place.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Alrighty here's another chapter out a little earlier than schedule. I've been falling into a good writing pace so you can start expecting updates every 4-5 days. However, I might just mess that up a little bit as I'm going on a two day trip this weekend. That's pretty much why I'm posting this chapter a little earlier so y'all won't miss me too much. Today has also been a slow day for me so hopefully the flow of the chapter is smooth, I apologize for any mistakes I may have overlooked.**

 **You can start expecting the romance to kick in soon. The beginning chapters were full of angst. XD**

 **THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO READ, FAVORITED, FOLLOWED, REVIEWED AND ALL DAT FUN STUFF! I really appreciate the support and feedback! It keeps me motivated. I hope you enjoyed reading so far.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV.**

Alfred had never felt as helpless as he did when he watched Arthur disappear behind the doors of the grand palace. He wasn't a dependent person, he didn't like having to rely on anyone. But, for once, he found himself in a position where he simply didn't know what to do.

The stiff necked servants ushered him along the outside of the palace as the coach pulled away and the officials disembarked. Alfred followed behind them like a lost puppy, nervousness growing in his stomach. They finally arrived at an inconspicuous door in the side of the building, which was opened by the manservant. The lady servant gestured for Alfred to follow before sweeping through the entrance gracefully.

Sound reverberated off the stone walls, clanging and banging with loud voices shouting while footsteps walking around briskly filled the air. The overly sanitary smell of soap hit Alfred's nostrils as the lady servant lead him down a set of stairs into the vast room just below the floor level of the palace. Rows of tubs could be seen with woman of all ages carrying bed sheets, curtains, clothes and other materials in and out of the room to be washed and dried. It looked like a busy factory with the working women in uniform, their sleeves rolled up high past their elbows and aprons covering their light blue gowns.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs the lady turned and looked at Alfred sternly. "I am Madam Wolfe and you will address me as such. I am the head mistress and overseer of the palace. A house keeper if you may. His Highness wishes for you to have a very specific position of employment here and I shall assist you to prepare for it."

"Thanks, ma'am," Alfred said.

She narrowed her piercing eyes before continuing her speech. "I can see you have no experience or knowledge of being a manservant. You're clearly a laborer. We must correct this and educate you immediately. You will have to learn everything before tonight, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alfred said again.

Madam Wolfe seemed satisfied enough with that answer and gestured at one of the young girls carrying buckets of water into the room, stopping her in her work.

"I'd like you and a few other girls to prepare a tub with soap and warm water. This boy is not taking a single step further inside until he is scrubbed clean," the head mistress commanded loudly.

The girl's head turned toward Alfred and she gawked for a moment, her eyes traveling up and down. Suddenly she began to titter in laughter and the young man blushed. She was obviously picturing him naked.

"Run along, girl!" Madam Wolfe snapped with a roll of her eyes. "This is the royal palace, not some circus!"

The girl ran into the frenzy of the room obediently. The head mistress sighed in impatience and led Alfred into a more private nook of the room. The girl returned with a tub big enough for him to stand in and began to fill it with steamy water, her friends helping as they ogled and giggled behind their hands. Luckily they were shooed off when Alfred stepped behind the curtain that had been raised for him. Another servant, a man thankfully, was positioned in front of the makeshift bath so that he could wash himself without fear of an audience.

Alfred quickly stripped and stepped into the tub, the warm water reaching his calves. Soap had already been added and mixed; he had been given a sponge, which he frothed and used to scrub the dirt from his skin and hair. He made sure he was thorough as he didn't want to be sent back just because he might have missed a spot behind his ear. Once he was clean from head to toe he picked up a bucket of clear water beside the tub and dumped it over his head, rinsing off the soap. A towel was handed to him and he dried off just as Madam Wolfe returned.

"Pass out your old clothes, we'll donate them to an orphanage since you have no need of them anymore," she said.

Alfred felt heat flood his face again but he bit back his questions and passed them through. A second later his hand brushed something smooth and he pulled it back behind the curtain, gripping new clothes of soft blue.

"Your uniform," Madam Wolfe explained shortly.

The head mistress was excellent at guessing. Alfred put on the new clothes to find that they fit perfectly, even though the entire outfit made him uncomfortable. The pants were loose and simple, black polished shoes now adorned his feet. A pale blue vest rested over a simple white shirt with a black tie tucked formally under the vest. Black bands were fitted over the sleeves of his shirt on his upper arms although he had no idea what the purpose of this was. When he stepped out from behind the curtain Madam Wolfe scanned him critically before nodding and holding out a pair of white gloves to him.

"It'll do. Cover your hands, they ruin your image."

Slightly stung from that comment, Alfred took the gloves and pulled them over his fingers as he followed Madam Wolfe back through the washroom. Several girls waved to Alfred when he passed and his steps grew faster, eyes fixed firmly on the back of the lady's graying head before him while a flush blossomed across his cheeks. She lead him through busy corridors full of servants running about to complete their work, the path twisting and turning until Alfred felt lost and dizzy. He was shown the many routes through the palace, warned that most of the time he should walk through the servant corridors rather than through the main halls. He was forced to memorize the layout of the entire palace and was drilled on typical routine. Overwhelmed and gradually growing frustrated, Alfred found himself biting his tongue more and more until he could taste blood. Arthur wanted him to be here, the least he could do was keep his smart mouth to himself.

When they passed through the kitchens, however, Alfred's sullen attitude changed drastically. He stared with eyes as wide a saucers at the monstrous amount of food being prepared. Meats were being grilled and roasted, vegetables fried and stewed, cakes and breads rising in doughy glory, spices and seasoning filled the air of the bustling kitchen. He licked his lips free of drool before casting a quick glance at Madam Wolfe, who was currently having a heated discussion with the head chef. Since she wasn't looking, Alfred snatched a biscuit from a rack of cooling pastries and stuffed it down his pants pocket to eat later.

 _Take that, Madam,_ Alfred smirked as she finally turned around and lead him out of the kitchen.

At last she lead him up to the Queen's tower, which happened to be positioned very high from the lower levels of the palace. They climbed staircases, long ones, short ones, spiraled ones, crooked ones, old and new until Alfred felt as if his feet were about to fall off. He would've complained but a sharp look from the head mistress quickly shut him up and kept his suffering internal. As she opened another door leading to yet another set of stairs, Alfred looked out of the window nearby and debated about jumping out to save himself from this nightmare. Not for the first time in his life, he was jealous of birds and their wonderful wings.

With a heavy sigh he trudged up after her. They reached the top within minutes and she pushed open a door weighed down by something heavy. Alfred stepped through and saw the servant's entrance to the tower was hidden by an old tapestry of the first Queen of Spades. Panting from the climb, he looked around and couldn't help but admire the cozy tower. Instead of boring old blue, the carpets and curtains were lovely hues of purple, giving the place a refreshing atmosphere. The windows were wide, letting in bright light to show the beautiful paintings, old tapestries, and elegant candle holders. Pushed against the walls were sets of ornate furniture, tables with vases of fresh flowers and stuffed chairs beside them.

Madam Wolfe showed Alfred the Queen's apartments so that he was familiar with them; this was the place he would need to know most importantly. The drawing room was quaint, a large fireplace lined one wall while the others had windows overlooking the palace grounds and gardens. Through another set of doors a small room occupied with boxes was classified as a closet for the Queen's clothes. Alfred was shown the bathroom that had a porcelain tub lined with gold, the cabinets filled with vials of soaps and scents. The bedroom had a bed so large Alfred could lay on it and sketch his limbs as far as he could without touching any of the sides. Not that he attempted this in front of Madam Wolfe.

Once the tour of the rooms were finished along with the list of daily chores Alfred would have to see to, the head mistress lead him back into the hall of the tower and led him to another door hidden by a simple tapestry. He groaned when a curved staircase was revealed behind it. She led him up higher into the tower to another apartment space but this one was far more smaller and modest. There was a bathroom, a closet, and a bedroom, a simple bed and table were the only furniture inside. The windows were smaller so the room was darker and bare of any decorations. Madam Wolfe announced that this was to be his living space.

When Alfred raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief she rolled her eyes and walked to the corner of the room to show him a bell, the cord of which to pull it disappeared into the wall.

"The cord is in the Queen's apartment, if she pulls this then she is summoning you. You must respond immediately no matter the time or what you are doing. Never leave this tower when the Queen is here." Madam Wolfe turned toward Alfred as she finished her explanation. Without a word she suddenly extended her hand, palm upward, as if she expected him to give her something.

Alfred stared in confusion for a moment. "What?"

He could tell she was trying to be patient. "I do not have the time for games, young man. Empty your pockets."

Alfred realized she could smell the lingering scent of the freshly baked biscuit in his pocket and he mentally cursed himself for being so thoughtless. Outwardly, however, he kept up his charade of innocence and stuffed his hand in his empty pocket before pulling out his hand to show he had nothing there.

"Your other pocket now," Madam Wolfe said coolly.

She wasn't so easy to trick. Alfred made note of this as he slowly slipped his hand into his other pocket. He hesitated and then pulled out his fist before opening it, revealing his empty palm. The head mistress's eyes instantly scanned his pockets for a bulge and she hummed low when she saw none before she swept out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Alfred breathed a sigh of relief as her footsteps faded and he slipped the bread out of his shirt sleeve. He'd have to be more careful next time he decided to raid the kitchen. He sat on the hard mattress and ate his stolen treat as he looked out at the sky through his window.

Arthur never came into his tower throughout the rest of that day. Alfred only had about an hour to himself in the quiet tower before an assistant of Madam Wolfe's check on him and screamed about his laziness. The blond boy stuck a finger in his ear as if attempting to pull the ringing out of them as he began to try and act productive. He now knew the head mistress had spies all over the place to make sure no one was stepping out of line. That was really unfair. Of course, Alfred was fresh meat so he was constantly interrupted while he worked to be criticized by fellow servants. That or swooned over by chambermaids. Either way, the attention was unwanted.

Alfred discovered the boxes in Arthur's new closet were the crates that contained his old clothes and items. The servant snorted as he began to unpack, this should have already been done. Maybe the wagon had arrived very late in the night, it seemed the only plausible reason for the boxes to be left so carelessly.

The gloves Madam Wolfe had given Alfred quickly became a nuisance as well as a hindrance. They were catching on things and leaving him floundering for a full minute as he struggled not to rip the delicate material. But the worst part was the lack of feeling the gloves gave. Alfred couldn't feel the softness of Arthur's coats in his hand or the rugged wood of the crates against his fingertips. It only served as a reminder of his new life, it was supposed to be cold and unfeeling as well as hiding his flaws. It felt backhanded and impersonal. Alfred hated it. Eventually he couldn't take it any longer and tore them off, angrily stuffing them in his pockets. He'd rather risk people see his offending hands and deal with the consequences of his misbehavior than have those things strangle all human feeling out of him.

Alfred hung Arthur's clothes in the closet, the Queen's current wardrobe barely took up any room. He assumed the ruler would be given new clothes in time. He went through the rest of Arthur's things and put them where he assumed they belonged. Occasionally a maid pointed out that some items were best placed elsewhere for whatever reason. But most of the time he was just called stupid for not knowing how to arrange anything. Alfred rolled his eyes every time. He was used to building barns, taking care of animals, fixing broken tools, and tending to the gardens on the Kirkland manor. The placement of a doily was far beyond his comprehension.

His work wasn't even acknowledged when Arthur finally came to the tower although Alfred didn't feel upset by that in the least. The exhausted look on the new Queen's face made Alfred realize that Arthur was dealing with far more worrisome tasks than learning how to keep a room nice. The green eyed man didn't even seem to see him, he just drifted through the apartments until he found the bed and collapsed. Alfred quickly retrieved a blanket for him and placed it over the ruler, murmuring soothing nothingness into the air in sympathy.

* * *

"Morning, Arthur!" Alfred said cheerfully as he pulled the curtains in front of the bedroom window open.

Light poured into the room and directly into bleary green eyes. Arthur groaned and pulled the blanket over his head to block out the blinding sun. Alfred only laughed as he tied the curtains back against the wall with a cord before going into the drawing room to fetch the breakfast tray a maid had brought up. He had made sure that a cup of tea was served with it as well, he knew Arthur loved tea.

When he brought the tray in Arthur was sitting up in bed, his hair sticking up at all angles as if he had been hit with lightning. The smaller man's facial expression certainly looked like he had just been electrocuted, he was staring stunned as his lap while running his hands over the blanket disbelievingly.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred asked as he set the tray on the bedside table.

Arthur barely moved. "Yes, I'm alright."

His tone was vacant as if his mind was far away and, instead of reassuring Alfred as the words had intended to, only made the servant worried. The taller blond sat on the edge of the bed, forcing Arthur to look up at him.

"You sure?" Alfred asked seriously.

"Of course I'm sure," Arthur snapped impatiently, annoyance raising his tone to its regular pitch.

Alfred grinned. That was the Arthur he knew. Instead of being discouraged by Arthur's grumpiness, the servant boy was encouraged by it and he scoot closer to the young royal with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Are you positive? Because last I checked you were Arthur, not Okay."

"What are you-?" Arthur snorted and shoved the grinning boy back. "You're ridiculous."

"Nope! I'm Alfred!" Alfred rolled off the bed quickly as a pillow was thrown at him.

Resisting the urge to laugh, Alfred moved to the bedside table and lifted the cup of tea by its saucer and offered it to the grumpy Queen in one smooth motion. He tucked his left arm behind his back and bowed exaggeratedly.

"Would Your Highness care for some tea?" he asked, dropping his voice into a fake pompous butler tone.

Alfred lifted his head just in time to catch Arthur smiling, his eyes softening and his shoulder shaking lightly in a chuckle. Radiant color burst in Alfred's chest like a flower opening its petals in the face of the sun. He had made Arthur smile and that was all that mattered to him.

Arthur gently took the saucer and lifted the cup to his lips with a polite "thank you". He sipped and Alfred watched as he visibly relaxed. The Queen didn't speak as he drank his tea in peace, eyes closed in obvious bliss. Once the cup was empty the green eyes opened and the smaller hand held the cup out toward his servant to take.

"Thank you, Alfred," he said with a smile.

"You're welcome, Arthur," Alfred grinned and placed the cup back on its tray.

Arthur stood and stretched, giving his manservant an odd look.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" he asked suddenly.

Alfred froze and looked down at his hands before remembering. "Oh yeah. Madam Wolfe, that's the head mistress, she said I had to wear them. She said my hands ruined my image and they needed to be covered up. I guess no one wants to look at scarred hands in the royal palace."

The boy rolled his eyes and was about to see to his other duties but was halted when Arthur took his hands. Delicate fingers pinched the ends of the material and pulled the gloves off. Alfred looked up in surprise at Arthur's thoughtful expression as the ruler began to trace the callouses on the servant's hands.

"I think these are the most beautiful hands I've ever seen," Arthur declared after a silent moment. "They're honest, hard-working hands. A story is written here."

Alfred could only stand mutely as Arthur finally drew his hands back and tossed the gloves aside. The young Queen drew himself up to his full height and met the servant's blue eyes.

"Be proud of your hands. And if I see those gloves again they're going into the fire," with a firm nod Arthur walked off into the bathroom.

Alfred smiled as he watched him go before remembering Arthur would need hot water for his bath. The boy jolted and ran out of the room, sprinting down the tower steps to hail a maid to request the water. This life was going to be hard to grow accustomed to, but as long as he could be with Arthur and make the young Queen smile then it wouldn't be a bad one.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 ***rises from the ashes* I LIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Hi. Mildly ashamed I haven't updated in a little over a week...*cringe* Just as I said I'd consistently updated every 4-5 days. Sorry.**

 **After I came home from my two-day trip I kind of died inside. But I'm back now. With more ideas and inspiration for this fic! Ha! So...this chapter is the shortest I've written in this story. Hope y'all don't mind that, it's a fun one anyway. I decided to put a little more of Alfred's perspective into the story because...because. Yeah.**

 **Don't worry, I promise you the plot gonna pick up. Romance is on its way! *throws rose petals into the air* ...I suck at romance. We'll see how this goes.**

 **THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, REVIEWED, FOLLOWED, FAVORITED, STARTED TO READ BUT GOT BORED, THREW ACROSS THE ROOM IN FRUSTRATION OR SQUEALED OVER IN EXCITEMENT. I appreciate the feedback! I hope you enjoyed it so far and I hope you'll stick it through to the end. Until next time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V.**

"I swear to all the gods, if that boy pulls off one more prank I will personally drag him out of the palace!" Yao snapped in irritation as he stormed out of the council room.

Arthur suppressed a smile.

The stuck-up delegates had insisted on yet another meeting but had been interrupted when a long fart ripped through the thick silence of the room. The first time this occurred the officials looked around wide-eyed in shock and disgust, a few sheepish heads were turned away. The second time was met with more annoyance, Yao was visibly growing more agitated and tapped his fingertips on the table. The third time it happened the Jack stood up and demanded the meeting be postponed. From the delegates' perspective someone had very bad indigestion but Arthur and Yao knew the truth of the situation.

"Alfred meant no harm, he knew I was upset about the meeting today. He did it to cheer me up," Arthur defended.

Yao huffed and cross his arms over his chest. "This is getting ridiculous. No one can get anything done whenever he plays his games."

"I agree that there needs to be some professionalism in the council, we all have our tasks to complete. I'll talk to Alfred and ask him to keep out of there from now on."

The Jack seemed content with that answer and continued to march down the hall away from the council room. Arthur shook his head and made his way to the library.

A couple of weeks had passed since he had first arrived at the palace with Alfred. It had been hard to settle into his new life with the frantic schedule, everyone constantly demanded his attention. If it weren't for Alfred he wouldn't lost his composure long ago.

The young Queen passed through the forest of bookshelves and idly selected a novel to read to pass the time. He sat in a comfortable chair tucked into a corner and opened the book, running his hand over the pages. The smell of the ink and old pages was soothing to the green eyed man, his shoulders relaxed in the comfortable atmosphere of the library. The discovery of the library was one of the true delights Arthur liked to indulge in whenever he could. It was peaceful and no one dared disturb him, especially after tales of his legendary scowl spread. This was the only time Arthur had to himself and he treasured every moment of it.

Muffled footsteps broke his concentration from the book. Stretching, Arthur wondered how long he had lost himself in the story. He prepared himself to glare at the noisy passerby but his frown melted into a slight smile as Alfred rounded the corner.

The boy cheerfully grinned and approached Arthur, holding out a pile of documents. "I was asked to deliver these to you as soon as possible. I knew I'd find you here."

The Queen accepted the papers and sat back in the cozy chair. He didn't read through them just yet, he remembered his promise to Yao and sighed inwardly.

"Alfred, I know you did something to the seat cushions in the council room," Arthur said as seriously as he could. It was hard to look at that mock innocent expression on the boy's face without laughing. Alfred looked like a puppy caught gnawing on a shoe.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur took a deep breath, he had no idea why he had such patience for the lad. "Don't play innocent with me, you rascal. I know it was you. I don't mind you having a little fun now and again but not when we're having a meeting and trying to get serious work done. It's inappropriate."

"It never bothered you before," Alfred grumbled, finally dropping his facade.

"Because those twats deserved it," Arthur smiled smugly at the thought of the official's indignant faces. "No more pranks in the council room, understood?"

"Alright, I understand," Alfred grinned again in comprehension. Arthur had forbidden him from a room, not from the delegates themselves.

"Good," Arthur began to leaf through the pages Alfred had given him. They proved to be multiple reports from the major cities throughout the kingdom about various things that were going to be addressed in the meeting. The officials must have decided this method would be a compromise for the interruption. The Queen was silent for a moment as he examined the papers and suddenly hummed in thought.

"What is it?" Alfred curiously leaned over the back of the chair to try and peek.

"Child crime is steadily rising," Arthur said, holding up a document. "The governors are suggesting building institutes to house the children and make them work their crimes off. A way to teach them proper morals and behavior, I suppose."

Alfred frowned. "That's not good enough. Do you think children will stay in a home built to punish them everyday? That will only cause more problems, the kids will try to escape and they'll learn that the law is going to hurt them instead of protect them."

Arthur looked up at his servant in surprise. It was rare for Alfred to be as serious as he was now, the boy was always cracking a joke even in the most inconvenient situations. The Queen could see a look in those blue eyes that betrayed that there was a reason for this sudden change of attitude. They were heavy and grim. A chill ran down Arthur's spine, he preferred it when Alfred smiled.

"What do you suggest I do as a solution to this problem?" Arthur asked.

Now it was Alfred's turn to blink and stare in surprise, breaking the grave spell that had overtook him. Obviously his opinion on serious issues had never been asked before. No one would want to consult with a lowly servant on such important things, everyone probably thought the boy was retarded.

After gnawing his bottom lip in thought, Alfred spoke. "Instead of building prisons for the children, build schools. Provide housing for the homeless orphans, give them food and books. Give them a chance to be educated, to read and write and do mathematics. Then when they get older let them apply for apprenticeships so they can choose what they want to do with their life."

"I should replace you with those stupid governmental officials, you'd be far better than the whole lot of them," Arthur said, slightly awed.

Alfred's familiar smile returned. "Their jobs are being sneaky backstabbers. My job is the opposite and I'd rather keep it that way."

Arthur almost asked what Alfred meant by that but decided to push the question aside for later. He had too much on his hands at the moment.

"Well, if you will please deliver the idea to Yao to put into consideration I would appreciate it," Arthur handed the report back to Alfred before turning to the rest of the documents. He groaned at the sight of the next issue. "Blast. I almost forgot about the coronation plans."

"Are they going to crown you without the King?" Alfred raised his eyebrow.

"We may have to," Arthur sighed and propped his chin on his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair. "The final mark hasn't been found yet and the country is so large it could take years before we find the third ruler. We can't wait that long. The kingdom has been without royals long enough, it's amazing none of the neighboring nations decided to attack."

"That makes sense," the servant replied. He rolled into the balls on his feet to catch the Queen's glum expression. "What's wrong? Aren't you excited?"

"No, I'm not," Arthur sat up and placed his book on the table beside the chair. He folded the papers and handed them all to Alfred. "But as much as I don't want to take on the burden of two rulers I think it may be for the best that I rule alone. The only reason anyone respects me now is because I'm the highest authority at present."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

Arthur sighed and pat the taller man's shoulder. "You don't need to. Run along with those errands, you can put the rest of those papers in my room. I'll look over them later."

Storm clouds practically gathered over Arthur's head as he walked out of the library and down to the palace lawns. Hiding away with a book couldn't distract him from his thoughts now and he rapidly felt his temper shorten. There was only one way he could relieve the stress.

Within moments he had an elegant longbow in his left hand, the smooth yew arching as he drew back the string. He held his breath as he took aim and released the arrow, a sharp whistle by his ear signaling the speed at which the deadly weapon flew. It hit the outside of the target, which produced a small frown from the shooter. Unsatisfied with the result Arthur took another arrow from the quiver and notched it to the string.

It had been Yao to suggest that the young monarch should take up archery after Arthur upended his tea over an arrogant noble's head. At first the Queen was reluctant, having always disliked sport of any kind, but quickly discovered there was something deeply satisfying about having the weapon in his hands. He was competitive with himself, always in control as he drew back the string to shoot again and again. The dull _thunk_ of the arrow hitting the target filled Arthur with twisted euphoria as the ache in his shoulders released the boiling frustration. Here Arthur could think with a sharpened focus he couldn't find anywhere else.

The arrow hissed against the bow as he pulled the string to his cheek. Within a few short days he would be crowned the Queen of the Kingdom of Spades. Aside from Yao's help he would be alone. It was his fate after all. Arthur inhaled through his nose, pushing out his stomach in a deep breath. His eyes were focused on the target, frozen and unblinking. He would be the Queen.

 _Zzzip! Thunk!_

With a slight movement his fingers released the string and the arrow flew, hitting the target closer to the center. Better. There was no hesitation as Arthur took another arrow from the quiver, ignoring his shoulder shaking from exertion. He wasn't the strongest but he wouldn't allow his arms a rest, soon he would be used to the weight of the bow and he'd be able to hit true.

As Queen he would embrace his necessary duties. He'd see to the people's needs and do what he believed to be right. Arthur knew there was a reason he was chosen, there was no arguing that fact. So he would do his best with the knowledge he possessed. What worried him was the absence of the King. It was both relieving and frightening.

The arrow grazed the target and skittered off further down the lawn. Arthur scowled. Drawing an arrow as fast as he could he released another, missing again. A growl emitted from between ground teeth as he fought his heated temper and forced his arm to pull the string back slowly. Focus was the key.

Alfred hadn't understood what Arthur meant because the boy had assumed that since Arthur had power he would be respected. That was far from true and these last few weeks had worn Arthur to the point where he wanted to scream. He could never relax, he was constantly exposed to judgment. The only reason why anyone held their opinion back was because he could have their heads chopped off with just a single command. He was feared, not liked or respected. And Arthur knew if the King was found then even the fear would lose its hold on the people. Once the King came into power then Arthur had someone who would keep him in check, a person to tug on his leash and remind him he was nothing more than weak and lonely man.

 _Thunk!_

Arthur lowered the bow as he saw the latest arrow dig into the outskirts of the red center. He was so close. He reached for the quiver and closed his hand around air. No more arrows. Sighing, he propped to bow at the station and walked across the lawn to retrieve the arrows. Normally that was the servant's task but he wanted to do it himself. He first picked up the arrows from the ground that had completely missed their target before tugging at the embedded ones.

No, he wasn't looking forward to his coronation. But then again, considering his position, who would?

* * *

The cursed day arrived with a flash of light and a cheerful "good morning!" from Alfred. Of course. How else would a deeply dreaded day begin?

Arthur refused to eat despite Alfred's pestering, instead only drinking his tea in stubborn silence. He could barely wait for the day to be over, right after the coronation was to be a huge celebration for the new monarch of Spades. If there was one thing Arthur despised it was parties, especially when he was center of all the attention. As a child he had cried during one of his own birthday parties just because all eyes were on him.

The morning was spent preparing for the coronation, which was to be held during the afternoon. After tea, Arthur sank low in the bathtub for a wash that had been doused with scented perfume. It was another reason to be thankful for Alfred's presence, the poor lad had spent the last few days smelling all the vials and gagging until he found an acceptable scent. By the time he had picked something his eyes were red and watering, his nose running and his voice was thick with mucus. Arthur felt a little bad for laughing at his predicament.

Once Arthur came out of the bath it was time to get dressed. Alfred turned away red faced while Arthur pulled on a pair of trousers and a white shirt. When Arthur was more modest the servant began to help him prepare, slipping on the silk vest and tying the cravat and attaching a purple pin. A low breasted suit was placed over-top all of this, the material smooth in a deep shade of purple. Then came the weighty part of the entire outfit. It was a two piece coat and cape mix, a recent fashion design that was both peculiar and elegant. The coat was so long its hem just brushed the floor when Arthur walked, the upturned collar was high around his slender neck. The odd thing about the coat was that it was sleeveless but Arthur learned to be thankful for that fact as it kept him cool. The shoulders of the coat were slightly contorted until Alfred placed the cape around Arthur. The cape was the heaviest thing of all. The clasps were silver, the drapery fell down Arthur's shoulders and just over his upper arms. The train was lined in white fur and was so long it was almost the length of his bed.

Arthur felt slightly foolish in the garb but when he looked in the mirror he could see no fault in his appearance. Green eyes stared back at him, the mirror's reflection had its back straight and head held high proudly. He was majestic.

A scarred hand was offered toward him and Arthur turned his gaze into smiling sky blue orbs. He took Alfred's hand gratefully and let the servant walk with him along the palace halls to the throne room. The tall blond didn't say anything but his soft smile and warm eyes spoke a thousand comforting words straight toward Arthur's secret fears. The young ruler felt more confident whenever Alfred was around.

Behind those doors stood hundreds of waiting people. Knights and soldiers would march for him, the rich would kneel and the people would celebrate. Once that crown was placed on his head there was no going back. Arthur was terrified.

Alfred's hand slipped from his own just before the large doors creaked open before them. Arthur resisted the urge to look as he heard the servant's footsteps rapidly retreat, knowing all of those eyes would be turned to him. The world was watching. He took a deep breath, waiting for the doors to stop their motion before he began to walk down the carpeted floor toward the dais where his throne awaited. Arthur barely dared to take in the grandeur, banners and tassels were hanging from arching pillars high above everyone's heads, the tall windows glistened as pure sunlight streamed into the room. Armor glinted like stars, the soldiers held theirs swords in a silent salute as Arthur passed. The vast room was flooded with hundreds of nobles and upper-class citizens. He thought he caught a glimpse of a few heads of flaming red hair in the crowd out of the corner of his eye.

Each breath matched his slow march to the front of the room, he decidedly kept his eyes focused forward as if he were aiming an arrow for the seat of the throne itself. Yao stood by the dais, watching with solemn brown eyes. And all too soon he was there, his legs buckling as he stopped at the foot of the stairs. Arthur sank to the floor on one knee, keeping his back straight, and bowed his head. An elderly government official began to recite the ritual in the old tongue of the country, holding the crown high above Arthur's head before lowering it. The weight was immense, a reminder of the heavy burden of the kingdom Arthur would have to bear for the rest of his life.

A silence fell once the old man finished his part and shuffled away. Arthur raised his head and stood, beginning to ascend the steps to the throne before him.

"Now begins the reign of Arthur, Queen of the Kingdom of Spades," Yao proclaimed, his voice amplified by the monumental room.

Once Arthur reached the top he turned in place and overlooked the crowd, his chin up, his lips remaining in a hint of a frown. He couldn't find it in himself to smile.

"Long live the Queen!" Yao shouted.

"Long live the Queen!" The crowd roared deafeningly in response.

* * *

The festivities lasted all day and long into the night. After his crowning he had exchanged the heavy drapery for a lighter cape of blue that complimented the velvety purple of his suit. It proved to be an immense relief, Arthur would've thrown himself out of the window and gladly fallen to his death if he had been forced to socialize in that stifling rug. Then again that option proved to remain appealing even without the burden of the cape.

Immediately after he returned with the fresh attire a feast had begun, entertainers dancing and singing for his honor while mountains of delicious food was served. People gossiped and laughed, many took the liberty to introduce themselves to Arthur and exchange pleasantries. As the evening drew to a close the celebration changed its rambunctious atmosphere for a more elegant ball. Music played in the ballroom, the dance floor filled with rich couples twirling under crystal chandeliers.

After pulling away from a party of nobles, Arthur retreated to a table serving wines. He knew the alcohol tended to disagree with him but his patience was worn. Introversion was no excuse for a royal to skip out on his coronation party. The metallic liquid burned his throat as he swallowed sourly. Wine wasn't his favorite beverage, normally tea was his choice of poison but if he sought something stronger then he preferred an ale or peasant's rum. The rum in question had been provided by Alfred after the boy had made a trip into the city and offered it to Arthur in the claim that it wasn't to the servant's taste. Arthur sighed into his goblet at the thought, too tired to even smile at the recent memory. Because of the rum he had become so intoxicated he couldn't remember much but apparently near the end of the scandalous affair he had fallen asleep in a meeting while bemoaning the fate of fairies. Needless to say the bottle of rum had been locked away after that, much to Arthur's chagrin.

A scowl turned Arthur's lips into a sharp curve behind his cup as he scanned the bustling crowd surrounding him a like a sea. Shrewd green eyes spotted his family talking to another group of aristocrats nearby. Quickly placing his goblet down on the table, Arthur made his escape in the opposite direction. He had no intention of speaking with them tonight, aside from the lack of energy he didn't think he could handle talking to them without screaming. That would undoubtedly damage his royal reputation.

Arthur slipped onto the wide balcony full of guests observing the firework show over the palace grounds. The bright bursts of colorful lights were certainly beautiful but the Queen barely took notice of them. He leaned against the marble banister as he let his mind drift into no particular thoughts. Tomorrow he was not going to get up no matter how much Alfred pestered him.

It took all of Arthur's willpower not to visibly sigh when he felt a presence at his side. No doubt it was more nobles eager to make his acquaintance. Forcing himself to straighten up he looked toward the presence to discover a white haired man wearing dark clothing, proving his guess incorrect. It was clear to Arthur that he wasn't a noble but the Queen couldn't tell the mysterious man's identity from appearance alone. Rugged silver hair suggested low class but the airs with which he carried himself oozed of self-importance. Pale lips were curled into a devilish smirk, ruby eyes glistened with an intent that was almost malicious. The man had his shoulders pulled back and his thumbs hooked in a thick belt hanging at his hips, pushing out his crotch as if inviting someone to kick his privates. Arthur immediately felt irrationally annoyed by the attitude and might have told him to go away if it weren't for the chills that ran down his spine as those sharp eyes studied him.

"So you're the Queen of Spades, huh?" the coarse voice cracked the air like a whip making Arthur jolt slightly in surprise. That only made the man's grin widen smugly, thin lines pulling back to reveal his pearly teeth.

"Yes, I am the Queen. Weren't you present for the ceremony?" Arthur snapped impatiently in an attempt to gain composure. He decidedly didn't trust this man.

"Nein, I missed that," the albino shrugged in an almost apologetic fashion. "I ran into some trouble along the way otherwise I would've been there."

"You're very forward."

"So?"

"I could have you punished for addressing your Queen with such disrespect," Arthur stated flatly. To be fair he was just looking for an excuse to unleash his frustrations upon and the egoistical man seemed a perfect victim.

The man thew his white head back as he laughed. It came out more as a hiss.

"I'd like to see you try and beat down this awesomeness," he unhooked one hand from his belt to wipe his bright eye. "But I didn't come here for that. Maybe next time."

Within seconds the albino went from annoying to malevolent. Those burning eyes trained on Arthur with an unnatural discipline. A phantom cold finger traced down the young Queen's spine as he realized that the albino had never once blinked during their conversation. The taller man stepped closer and Arthur found himself frozen in place despite his limbs instinctively screaming at him to move away as quickly as possible.

"Arthur Kirkland, you may wear a crown but you are a Queen without power," the ruby eyed man stated, his words ringing. Pale fingers lifted, brushing golden blond hair aside to rest on Arthur's forehead. "With my blessings I awaken the magic of the Spades, all the Queens before you offer you the gifts of their power to aid you in this time of great need. _So sei es!_ "

Sound became muffled as Arthur was instantly submerged into the sensation that he was drowning in something dense, his mind drifted away from his body as those red eyes flashed abnormally bright. He couldn't see anything else, darkness crept into the corners of his vision and he felt his legs give out from underneath him. Arthur couldn't even feel himself fall as there was nothing to feel but the enveloping cold.

"Arthur!"

Alfred's voice sounded far away, the desperate yell just barely reaching the Queen's consciousness. Arms wrapped around him, strong limbs cradling him to a chest that beat like a drum with the sound of life. Arthur felt all cold leave his body and, submitting to Alfred's soothing warmth, knew no more.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **...Yup. I is so good at updates. I am a liar, yesh. And I have a confession. When I started this story I had absolutely no clue where I was going with it. It was spontaneous and plot-less. I kept saying the story would pick up but I had no idea when or how. So when it came time to writing this chapter I knew it was time to speed things up somewhat. And I pulled a major blank. Sometimes it's best to take a step back and come back with a fresh mind because by the time I came back it was like a freaking breakthrough. So here's your well deserved update, dear readers.**

 **The bow Arthur is shooting is an English longbow. I thought it would be appropriate for him. Apparently the English longbow is challenging to master and it takes a long time of training before accuracy is gained by the archer. But y'all know Iggy, he loves making things hard of himself. For the sake of the story he'll be super good at it and get a hang of the longbow quickly. Expect archery action.**

 **And yes, Gilbert made an appearance. EVERYONE SCREAM! WEE! Okay, now shush. He'll be floating around the edges of the story for a while so...you have that to look forward to.**

 **Just as a warning for the future: this story is turning into a weird mix of romance, fantasy and adventure. I like action a lot so I'll try very hard to make sure the majority of the story remains a romance.**

 **Alrighty, I've babbled enough. Until the next update! *salutes***


	6. Chapter 6

_Warning: violence and abuse._

* * *

 **Chapter VI.**

It was dark when Arthur awoke, the ceiling covered in shadow and the room silent in sleep. Oddly enough he could barely feel his body. He knew he should have felt afraid at that but he kept still and quiet, patiently waiting. In time a tingling sensation ran down his limbs and he could feel the silky sheets around him as well as the comfortable mattress underneath him. Someone must have carried him to his room, he reasoned. Slowly, Arthur shifted his head to look around and his assumptions were confirmed. This was his bedroom in the palace and, guessing from the light that slipped through the crevices of the drapery over the window, it was early morning.

Shadows moved out of the corner of his eye, a figure bending closer toward the bed. Arthur tensed.

"Arthur?"

Relief flooded through his body at the familiar voice, he relaxed into the mattress and shifted so he could view the person at his bedside. Alfred was standing there, concern lighting his blue eyes. Arthur felt a frown tug at his lips. He didn't like it when his cheerful servant wasn't smiling.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Are you hurt?" Alfred ignored the question.

"No, I'm alright."

To prove his point Arthur pushed himself into a seated position. At first that cause a flash of alarm to spread across the young boy's face but once it was clear that no harm had been inflicted upon the Queen, Alfred relaxed.

"Everyone was so worried after you collapsed."

"What happened?" Arthur repeated, growing impatient.

Alfred sat on the edge of the bed. "You fainted after that strange man approached you. We tried to catch him because we thought he threatened or hurt you but he escaped."

"I see," Arthur said slowly.

He quickly searched his memories and reflected on what he could remember. As he sat in thought he could feel Alfred's eyes weighing heavily on him, waiting for an explanation. Arthur decided not to tell the servant of the encounter as he didn't need anyone to worry more than necessary.

"I suppose the party has ended," he mused aloud.

Alfred winced. "Arthur, you've been asleep for a whole day."

Deafening silence fell on the room as Arthur processed the information. He sat frozen as he wondered what was it that had caused him to sleep for so long, he couldn't remember if he had dreams. Perhaps it was magic, the incantation that Gilbert had uttered seemed powerful enough. His emerald eyes trailed up toward Alfred and another thought occurred. Alfred had been the first person to respond to Arthur's fainting, he had no doubt about it when he heard the boy shout his name. And now the servant sat at his bedside throughout the night in wait for his superior to wake up. The behavior suddenly struck Arthur as unusual. No servant behaved that way, even if they were considered friends to their master.

"Alfred, were you here the whole time?" Arthur asked quietly.

"Yes," the boy simply answered.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you were alright," Alfred said. The answer came too quick and easily for Arthur's taste. Something was off about the whole thing.

"Why?" Arthur pressed.

This time the servant fell silent for a moment. Blue eyes flicked down to his calloused hands nervously. That confirmed Arthur's suspicions.

"Alfred, I know you're hiding something. I wouldn't ask you to tell me if I wasn't sure it had something to do with me. Your behavior is unusual, it always has been now that I look back on it. I want to trust you but you must tell me what it is you're hiding," Arthur spoke as gently as he could. He reached forward and placed his hand over Alfred's.

The servant looked back up, a small frown curving his lips, seriousness written on his face. For a moment he didn't speak but he sighed heavily and nodded.

"It's probably time I should tell you," he said softly.

Arthur squeezed Alfred's larger fingers in encouragement.

The blue eyed blond took a deep breath. "I'm not just a servant."

Air froze on Arthur's lips as he waited, not even daring to move in fear of scaring the boy away. Alfred looked torn between bolting and admitting the truth but he never moved, remaining seating close to the Queen. Arthur was thankful of the amount of privacy they had in this room. They each could be who they really were, Alfred didn't have to hide behind secrets any longer.

"Before your father took me in I lived in an orphanage with my twin brother," Alfred began.

Arthur jolted in surprise. "You had a twin brother?"

That made Alfred smile and he nodded. "Yes, I did. We looked identical so there was no doubt about us being siblings."

"What happened to him?" Arthur asked.

"I'm getting to that," Alfred turned his palm up to cup Arthur's smaller hand in his. The smile faded once more. "It was hard on all of the kids, they were neglected and unwanted. The housing provided by the government for us was in terrible shape, the roof leaked and there was always a draft. We were always hungry, most kids stole food. Others ate what was left from our caretaker's meals like dogs. Someone was always sick. No one had even visited the orphanage to look for a child to adopt. It was terrible."

Now Arthur understood why Alfred had been so adamant on the issue concerning the criminal children. Sympathy softened the young Queen's face and he inwardly decided he would do whatever he could to ensure that the children were treated fairly. Those poor kids didn't deserve to be neglected and punished the way they were. His mind was taken from that problem as Alfred continued his story.

"I don't remember much about what our caretaker looked like but he was huge," Alfred's tone began to darken in anger and disgust. "He frightened everyone. He wasn't kind. He...hurt some of us."

Arthur stared at Alfred in pure shock. "But you were only five when Father found you!"

"People like that don't discriminate, Arthur," Alfred said seriously. "To him we were vermin. A burden to society, useless beggars and thieves who deserved the misfortune we found ourselves in. The only reason he took the job was because the government paid him to do it. No one else was willing."

Red tinted the corners of Arthur's vision and he felt his heart beat quicken in pure rage. His fingers curled and tightened around Alfred's. People who hurt children disgusted him and the knowledge that some dirt groveling bastard had hurt this beautiful optimistic boy only made him angrier. If Alfred noticed Arthur's reaction then he chose not to acknowledge it. That only made Arthur convinced that the man from the orphanage had done something terrible to the servant as a child.

"So what happened?" Arthur swallowed, his saliva burned his throat.

"One day the caretaker singled me out, it was almost as if he were trying to..." Alfred trailed off before shaking his head. "I ran away. I would've taken my brother with me but there wasn't enough time and I didn't have the guts to go back. I kept running until I came upon your manor. I was hungry, cold and tired. So I tried to steal food."

Arthur nodded slowly. "But you were caught."

"By your father, yes," Alfred shifted on the bed, sitting back a little bit. "At first he was prepared to drag me back to the orphanage but I begged. Something I said must have gotten through to him because he suddenly stopped."

Arthur looked up from their entwined hands to find a soft smile on Alfred's face.

"One thing I've learned about the Kirkland family is that even though you come off as cold and heartless, you are really good people," he said.

Arthur felt his face heat up in a flush, but before he could answer the servant continued.

"Your father told me that I could live at the manor and eat the food he provided for me on the condition that I do something in return for him."

"So you became a worker," Arthur concluded.

Alfred shook his head. "That was only part of it. Mr. Kirkland told me of a prophesy he had received. He said that one of his sons would become something great and he had a good idea which one of them it was. He told me that he felt helpless to do anything, that he was concerned about what would happen to his beloved child." Alfred's eyes pierced into Arthur. "Your father asked me to protect you, Arthur, throughout your entire life."

Arthur's jaw dropped open in disbelief. There were so many thoughts running lightning speed through his head that he couldn't keep track of them all. He stuttered incoherently, not knowing what to say. Finally words tumbled out of his mouth, a repeat of an earlier outburst. "But you were five years old!"

Alfred smiled knowingly. "Sure but there wasn't a threat to you then. Besides, I'm a lot more capable than I look."

"B-but my father-!" Arthur couldn't wrap his head around the very idea. "How could he be worried about me? He never cared!"

"He always cared, he just didn't know how to show it," Alfred corrected gently.

"If he was so concerned then why didn't he protect me himself?!" Arthur was angry. All those years of judgment and neglect, the lack of love had hurt him permanently. He couldn't find it in himself to forgive the man so quickly.

"I don't know, you'd have to ask him," Alfred shrugged. "But I think he made a good choice. Once your mark was found you had to move away from your family. I guess he figured he couldn't always be there to take care of you."

"Don't defend him," Arthur muttered sullenly.

Alfred sighed but didn't protest on the issue. "At least you know the truth now. I'm not just a servant, I'm your friend and your body guard. I'll do anything to make sure you're safe."

"That's why I heard you call my name when I fainted," the Queen shifted on the bed and glanced down, suddenly awkward. "Th-thank you. For protecting me."

"You're welcome," Alfred grinned.

The tall blond stood up and the mattress inflated as his weight left it. Arthur stared at the disappearing crease before turning his gaze to Alfred. A lot of things made sense now. Perhaps that was why Alfred had always been so kind to Arthur, because it was his task. Uneasiness began to churn his stomach uncomfortably. He hoped that wasn't the case. He liked Alfred a lot. The boy had his faults but Arthur found them endearing rather than revolting. It was his dearest hope that someone would return those feelings, not because they were obliged to but because they wanted to. Was Alfred obligated to like him?

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts as he noticed Alfred hadn't moved from the side of the bed. The boy was focused on him, something was clearly bothering him.

"Arthur, the other night at the party...what happened?" Alfred asked.

The Queen opened his mouth to answer but quickly shut it. He felt terrible that Alfred was concerned and he wanted nothing more than to open himself up to his only friend. But a gut feeling told him that this was a delicate matter, one word to the wrong person would reap terrible consequences. Besides, Arthur felt he needed some time to regain trust in Alfred after this reveal.

"I'm not sure," he said slowly under the pretense of remembering the event. "Perhaps it was the wine. I know I had a couple of glasses before setting out. Wine never agrees with me."

With the lie complete he glanced up at the taller man to determine his reaction. His heart sank as Alfred stared back unconvincingly. Arthur thought he caught a flash of pain in those sky blue eyes but it disappeared so quickly there was no way it could have been real.

"You should sleep," Alfred finally spoke. "There are a couple of hours until morning. I'll be back to check on you."

Arthur nodded and lay down again. He listened to the sound of Alfred's footsteps on the carpet fade before curling into himself miserably. Guilt pooled from his stomach to his chest, he felt like he had betrayed his friend. But there was no helping it. What had happened at the party was so strange he knew he couldn't tell just anyone, not even Alfred.

* * *

 _Harsh wind whistled eerily through the boards that were nailed over gaping holes in a pitiful attempt to patch up the house that was falling apart due to neglect. Alfred sat by one of these holes, looking out to the gray sky above. It rolled with dark clouds, heavily burdened with the rain that was sure to come. The small boy curled into himself, his arms wrapping tightly around his bruised knees. The spring was as cold as the winter had been, the weather was wet and miserable due to the constant storms. No one else sat near the child, the other children were huddled in their nests of rags for warmth or were out in the small town stealing._

 _Alfred shivered and pulled a meager blanket tighter around his shoulders, beginning to cough into his elbow. His chest burned inside and out with an itch he couldn't get rid of, he was probably falling ill. It wasn't surprising, a majority of the other children were already sick. It had been a matter of time before it spread to him._

 _Before he could continue watching the sky in peace, tiny footsteps padded rapidly across the damp floors and into the room. Alfred looked up as another boy his age entered the room with wide purple eyes. The child had wave blond hair and a round face very much like Alfred's. The boy darted inside and pulled at his arm pleadingly._

" _Alfred, you have to hide!" he whispered anxiously._

" _What's wrong, Matthew?" Alfred asked, standing up._

 _Matthew pulled his twin across the room to a pile of blankets, looking close to tears. "Just hide! He's coming for you!"_

 _Horror flooded all of Alfred senses and he quickly pulled up the blankets, burrowing underneath them in fear. Matthew tucked them around him and sat down in front of the pile, Alfred could hear his brother struggling not to cry._

 _For a moment it was quiet, there was nothing beyond the darkness of the rags except the coughing of the sick children around him. Alfred tried to imagine himself behind thick stone walls where he would be safe. It was warm here and the irritation in his chest was soothed, his ragged breathing becoming shallow. Then heavy footsteps broke the facade. They resonated through the molded floor as thunder would through the air causing all the children who heard it to shudder in fear. Closer, closer they came. Alfred held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut._

Please go away, _he prayed silently._ Please, please, please.

 _The door opened. Those menacing steps came into the room, walking directly to the pile with purpose. Alfred could hear Matthew jump up to his feet to try to intercept the man, but a thud and an airy gasp was the only warning the boy in the blankets had before light blinded him as the rags were tossed aside. He blinked frantically to regain his vision but a large hand grabbed his hair, yanking the young boy to his feet. He cried out as he stumbled but the man ignored this and proceeded to pull him out of the room. Alfred whimpered in fear and pain, having no choice but to follow or risk loosing a fistful of hair. The man never looked at him or said a word while they walked down the hall toward the back of the building. A door was opened and Alfred was tossed inside the room like a sack of potatoes._

 _The boy quickly pushed himself onto his knees as he looked around but his only way of escape was the entrance behind the giant of the man before him. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he wondered what horrible punishment lay in wait for him today._

" _I-I didn't do anything!" he cried in desperation._

 _The man before him dug his meaty hand into his coat pocket and held up a silver flask. He shook it and Alfred could hear liquid contents swirl inside of it._

" _Can you guess what this is?" the man said wickedly._

 _Alfred slowly shook his head, staring at the flask wide eyed. If he had learned anything it was that nothing good ever came out of anything the man held in his hands. He was always finding new ways to terrorize the children._

 _The man shook the flask again and grinned madly. "It was pricey but I got this especially for you, my favorite boy."_

" _I-I don't know what it is," Alfred's voice shook. "Please, let me go. I didn't do anything wrong."_

" _Don't you dare speak such lies!" the man suddenly roared, causing the small boy to curl up into himself. "You have committed the worst of crimes by breathing! Treason in the highest! I am here to unleash justice!"_

" _I'm sorry!" Alfred bust into tears, barely knowing what the man was saying or meant. He only wanted the terror to end and hide away with his twin._

 _Without warning the man was upon him, slamming the boy's frail body against the wall by his throat. Alfred tried to cry out for help but choked on the bear hand pinning him in place. The man ripped the boy's shirt open, revealing the scrawny pale chest and torso. He pointed at Alfred's chest triumphantly._

" _Aha!" he cried out. "I was right! It is you!"_

 _Alfred squirmed, trying to slip out of his abuser's grip. But he couldn't escape, he couldn't even look down at himself to see what this man was so ecstatic about. He didn't have much time to wonder as the man held up the flask again, much closer to Alfred's face than before. His rancid breath blew straight into the boy's nostrils, making him gag._

" _This is acid," the man said, his tone forcibly quiet as if he was holding back gleeful laughter. "And I will destroy you with it."_

 _Alfred let out a high pitched whine, not completely understanding what the man was threatening him with but was terrified none-of-the-less. He desperately struggled to escape and the man unscrewed the top of the flask with one hand, evilly chuckling to himself. Without warning the abuser dropped the boy and slung the flask forward, clear liquid spilling out of the top and landing onto Alfred's tiny chest._

 _Alfred screamed._

* * *

Alfred jolted awake in his bed in the palace. He was covered in sweat, his heart hammering against his chest as if pleading to escape his body. The young man sat up and wiped a hand across his forehead, shivering. He looked around his small bedroom to tell himself that he was far away from his past. Then he inhaled through his nose deeply for a couple of seconds. Once his lungs strained from the amount of oxygen, he exhaled slowly through his mouth. Then he repeated this several more times. Inhale through the nose. Out through the mouth. His heart gradually slowed to its natural pace and he got up from the bed.

The room had been mostly empty when he had arrived but he managed to get a small mirror and a basin for water, which he had arranged on the table in the corner. Alfred went there now and bent over, dipping his hands into the cool water and brought it to his face. He rinsed the perspiration off before straightening up, his eyes catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His shoulders were broad and toned with muscle, rippling down his chest and stomach. Alfred wasn't the most brawniest man but he was no weakling either. He knew he would've been considered to have a handsome body if it weren't for the hideous scar on his chest. Swollen craters of irritated red rose and fell in his skin, much like boiling water. It was long, extending across the width of his body. His left nipple was lost in the torrent of burned flesh, the scar angled up toward his right collar bone.

Alfred was defiled and he felt ashamed to even look at himself.

That was why he was determined to do what good he could in this world, to prevent evil people doing terrible things to the helpless. That was why he felt his heart stop when Arthur had collapsed at the celebration, the fear that he had failed his duty and that he had lost his only friend was overwhelming. Alfred took another deep breath and placed a hand over his heart. He didn't speak but he made a vow that night to do whatever it took to protect Arthur's life, even if it meant ending his own.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Yay for backstory! Finally...**

 **I had not expected to put up a violence warning so soon. But if anyone found that uncomfortable to read then it might be better if you stop reading this story entirely. There is a reason it's rated "T". Later chapters will have more action and violence in it, nothing _too_ gory. I will continue to put warnings at the beginning of the chapters when there are certain *ahem* scenes. Also, if you think I need to up the rating then let me know. Please and thank you.**

 **THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, REVIEWED, FAVORITED, FOLLOWED! It really makes me happy every time I get a notification from you guys on this story. I'm putting a lot of effort into writing it so it feels rewarding when people enjoy it.**

 **I noticed a bunch of you who reviewed were curious about how Alfred would make his appearance as King (Yes, to those who asked, he _will_ be king). So here is my answer to Sapphire777, Natsume-Erika, DarkSolQueen, and Guest who reviewed the previous chapter: You'll have to read to find out ;3 mwahahaha! I'm mean like that. But I'll give y'all a little hint: There is a big reason why no one has discovered that Alfred is the king and it is very essential to the plot. **

**Alrighty, I will be focusing more on the romance part soon so...yay for that. XD Hopefully I'll fall back into the good habit of updating regularly like I used to. I hope y'all enjoy this story so far and keep reading! Until next time, my readers. *waves***


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII.**

Rumors of Arthur's fainting fit spread throughout the palace. When questioned directly about it he gave the same excuse he gave to Alfred, although other people accepted the lie more readily than his body guard servant friend had. It stung that people were judging him again, whispers of how weak the Queen really was only fed people's biased minds. Normally Arthur would have been disgusted and done everything in his power to fix his reputation. But he didn't. Letting people believe what they wanted covered up what actually had happened.

Every time Arthur thought about it he grew restless. There was something important behind his encounter with the strange albino man, the fact that he seemed to disappear off the face of the earth only confirmed the Queen's suspicions. Alfred always sensed when Arthur was thinking about it but never pressed.

Since Alfred admitted the truth about his past, Arthur was a little more wary of him. He still liked his servant but he suddenly felt as if he barely knew the boy. So many things about the story unsettled him and he felt he needed time to adjust to it, even though it pained him to do so. His new attitude toward Alfred obviously hurt them both. But he didn't have much time to think about it when he had more pressing matters to face.

Not long after Arthur arrived at the palace he demanded that he have a study made up for him, he needed a place to work and meet individuals in private when necessary. The circumstances were unusual as the Spadian Queen traditionally never worked so hard but it went unquestioned. Arthur sat at his desk now, finishing reading through reports. A knock on his door interrupted him and, without looking up, said, "Enter." He knew who it was without looking.

Yao shut the door behind him before approaching the Queen, bowing low. "You summoned me?"

Arthur finally looked up and put aside the papers carelessly. "Yes, I would like to talk to you."

"About what?" Yao straightened up. He didn't beat around the bush.

Arthur thought carefully for a moment before speaking slowly. "It has always been tradition that the Jack be the most trusted companion of the rulers in all regards necessary."

"That is correct," the brunet tucked his hands into his long sleeves as if settling in expectation for a long lecture. "What is it you need, Arthur?"

It was uncanny how intuitive the man was, Arthur reflected to himself. He pushed the observation aside. "I need to speak to you about a very important matter. I feel as if I can trust no one else, not even..."

Yao graciously didn't acknowledge the pause. He was only too aware of how close Arthur and Alfred were and, although he sometimes complained, never interfered with their relationship. The ex monk simply stood silently in wait for Arthur to continue.

"I want to understand the situation better and until then this information cannot be discussed with anyone else, understand?"

"It is my duty to keep silent what the Queen may wish to keep silent," Yao responded solemnly. "I will not go back on my vows. You may tell me whatever you please, I will keep my lips sealed."

Arthur nodded and took a deep breath. "I need to tell you what actually happened during the party."

As he recounted the story to his Jack, Yao's eyes sharpened in thoughtfulness. The other man never spoke or interrupted, seeming to take his role as a silent listener very seriously. When Arthur described the albino's appearance the Jack only seemed to listen more intently, his eyes trained on the Queen's as if searching for lies. It was nerve-racking but Arthur held nothing back. Once he finished the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the desk.

Finally Yao looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "So there is truth behind myth."

"Excuse me?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, offended.

"I didn't mean you," the Jack lowered his head and his lip twitched in a slight smirk. "You are far from weak, Your Highness."

"Then what was it you were referring to? Do you know something I don't?"

"Perhaps if the Kingdom of Spades took the Tarot monks more seriously then you would know the same extent that I do," Yao said. "But relations have never been good between the two and for very good reason."

"You riddles are giving me a headache," Arthur grumbled, rubbing his forehead in emphasis.

"My apologies but perhaps it is best we continue this discussion elsewhere," with a sweep of his robes Yao made his way to the door.

Arthur stood up cautiously. "Where are we going?"

"To the Tarot temple," Yao answered, smiling mysteriously. "Your questions will be best answered there."

Arthur had never expected his earlier wish to return to the temple be fulfilled so soon. In fact, he had almost forgotten the place from all the madness of being Queen brought. When they entered the serenity once more washed over Arthur and he felt his shoulders relax. Yao was careful to keep them out of the way of the visiting citizens who were still taking visits to the sacred pool in search for the mark of the King. The two rulers only passed monks, who nodded or bowed in respect to them. Yao led the Queen deeper into the holy house, which wasn't large on the surface as the true temple resided under the earth. Vast catacombs served as a resting place for thousands of unknowns, stone corridors twisted irregularly like a labyrinth. The comfort was gone, only the darkness and stone resided here.

The Jack had taken a lantern from the upper levels so that their path was lighted. He seemed to know the way well for which Arthur was thankful. The Queen didn't doubt for a second he didn't want to be lost in this place. They went down a spiral stone staircase that took them down yet another level. What Arthur saw made his jaw drop. The stone room was light by lanterns, revealing the sketch of books and scrolls of a library that rivaled the one in the palace. Odd objects were strewn about and he could recognize a few as historical relics, simply place here as if someone discarded an item of unimportant in a closet. The entire room had an ancient feel to it that was both unsettling and awe inspiring.

"This is the Spadian Tarot library," Yao said calmly. "It is a secret from the world and accessible only to the monks and royals of this kingdom. Here is where we will find your mysterious visitor."

"He's here?" Arthur nearly yelped in disbelief.

"In a sense," Yao continued walking down the steps and among the shelves.

Irritated with the vague answer, Arthur sat at a nearby table. The Jack returned with an armful of parchments and a heavy dusty book. First he opened the book, the spine creaking in old age. Yao ignored the dust and flipped through the pages patiently before turning it toward Arthur and pointed at an illustration.

"Was this the man?" he asked.

Arthur leaned over the book to study the page. Inked in faded colors was an old drawing of a man with short ragged hair and a devilish smirk on his face. His hair and face were white, a stark contrast to his bright red eyes. The Queen shuddered as a creeping sensation overcame him.

"Who is he?"

Yao folded his hands into his overlarge sleeves once more. "He goes by the name of Gilbert. It would not be completely accurate to say that he is a man, although he is similar to one. The Tarot monks worship him as a god but when I heard the legends I never completely believed that to be true. Gilbert is from an old race of half man and half magic, he is among the last of his kind. Not much is known about him or this race except that they were known as the Tarots, thus the name of the religion about them."

"Gilbert is a Tarot?" Arthur looked up stunned. "What was he doing at my coronation?"

Yao hesitated as if thinking how best to explain something to a child. "There are stories that he chooses the rulers for the four kingdoms."

Arthur felt like he couldn't breathe. "What?"

"No one has been able to confirm if those stories are true or not, in fact Gilbert's very existence is questionable," Yao said quickly. "But, by your story, this being does certainly exist. And he has incredible power."

"What did he do to me? He used magic, that's undeniable now," Arthur was surprised by how calm his voice was.

"I do not know what he did or why," Yao untucked his hands and began to dig through the scrolls. "That is why I brought you here. This is the best place to look for the answers we seek. Let us hope this magic he placed upon you is not one of evil intent."

Time trickled by slowly as they sat together, reading through old documents. Arthur couldn't tell if hours had passed but it could have easily only been a few minutes. The disturbed dust made him sneeze and his eyes watered at the reaction, making the task only harder for him. Even though this library was far superior in its collection, Arthur preferred the clean library in the palace. He refused to complain, he doubted that his companion would even listen considering how absorbed in his work the man was. It was no wonder Yao had been selected by fate, or possibly Gilbert, as the Spadian Jack.

"Yao, how did you know about Gilbert?" Arthur asked suddenly.

The Jack looked up impatiently. "I was a monk here, remember? I was accepted into this temple a long time ago, they taught me all there is to know here. My curiosity for the origins of such stories grew and I came here to study. It led me to the stories about Gilbert."

"I see," Arthur sheepishly turned back to the parchment he had been studying.

Suddenly deciding there was nothing of importance on this page he stood up and made his way to a nearby shelf to return it. The page in question had been a part of a larger, heavier scroll and Arthur had to sling it on top of its pile on the shelf due to the weight. That was a mistake. Dust billowed like a thick cloud directly into the young man's face, causing him to gag and sneeze terribly. In an attempt to escape it, Arthur stumbled back only to crash into another shelf causing books to tumble to the floor.

"Be careful!" Yao snapped from his seated position at the table. "These books are over hundreds of years old!"

"I'm sorry!" Arthur quickly stooped to pick up the books he knocked over. A few were hardbound but most of them were smaller and looked more like journals. Curiously, the young Queen opened it to find elegant handwriting. "Yao, what are these?"

The Jack looked up and peered over at him. "Those are records of the previous rulers. The smaller books you have are journals of a past Queen, I believe."

Arthur's interest sparked. "May I borrow these?"

"You may do as you wish, as long as you return them in good condition."

With a indignant snort, Arthur returned the record books to the shelves and kept the journals. As if he of all people would abuse the wonders of a book, no less a historic relic such as this!

The two rulers searched for at least another hour in a futile effort to find more information in regards to the mysterious Tarot and his magic. Yao had been serious when he mentioned there was little to nothing helpful, even in this ssecret underground library. Finally, with their patience worn thin and dust scratching their lungs, they decided to try their luck again another day. They both had duties to attend to. Arthur collected the old journals and took them with him to the palace. First, he placed them somewhere safe in his room before changing clothes. The dust had gotten everywhere.

Tugging the wrinkles free of his vest, Arthur stepped out his apartments with the intention to walk toward his study. That idea was cut short when Alfred appeared out of nowhere and tightly grabbed his arm, stopping his movements.

"Where were you? You were gone for hours!"

Arthur jerked his arm, wincing as his skin was pinched painfully from the force of the grip holding him in place. "Let go of me! There's no need to behave like a mother hen! You don't need to watch me all of the time, I am fully capable of taking care of myself."

It was then Arthur remembered why his servant would be so concerned, his duty was to care and protect the Queen of Spades. To everyone else, he was just a servant who had to see only to lowly tasks. Alfred must have been caught up in one of these tasks when Arthur and Yao slipped off to the Tarot temple. Guilt began to bloom in Arthur's chest but he quickly stifled it with annoyance. The lad was his father's tool after all.

"I was with Yao, looking into some important affairs," Arthur said haughtily. "And it is not your place to be so impertinent."

Alfred flinched, quickly releasing his superior.

He might as well as driven a dagger into the servant's heart. Never before had he reminded the boy of his rank, much less use that sort of tone on him. Arthur was being unnecessarily cruel but he couldn't help it. He no longer knew what to think of Alfred and that thought frightened him, so he lashed out on instinct. The guilt he had been struggling to suppress grew as the boy's face fell, jaw tightening and hurt flashing in his eyes. Then the taller blond's eyebrows lowered angrily.

"What did I do to deserve this treatment, Arthur?" Alfred snapped. "I have done so much for you and I have never demanded anything in return! You can't punish me for your father's choice. He was trying to protect you!"

"I told you not to defend him!" Arthur shouted in response.

"What kind of Queen are you if you can't forgive someone of their mistakes?!" Alfred's chest was heaving, his broad shoulders tensed. Cold fury burned like crystallized fire in those sky blue orbs. "Arthur, if you have a problem with what your father did then you need to talk to him about it! But I chose to agree, I chose to protect you! If that bothers you then I'm sorry but you'll have to deal with it!"

"You bloody bastard," Arthur growled, turning away. He couldn't look at those eyes that were once so soft and comforting.

"Listen, I'm sorry I never told you the truth. I truly am!"

"Shut up, Alfred! I don't want to hear it right now!"

"I thought I was your friend."

The amount of defeat and pain in Alfred's voice was too much to bear. Ashamed, Arthur hung his head and covered his face with his hands. There was a long moment of silence. He knew Alfred was waiting for an answer, a confirmation or a denial but he found he could give neither. The whirlwind of emotions inside of him concerning his servant was too complex to read, let alone comprehend. Some days he was filled with warmth and happiness at the sight of that stubborn strand of blond hair sticking up defiantly over top the bookshelves in the library as Alfred search for him. Other days he was irritated by that loud peal of laughter and spirited voice that boomed throughout the palace. There were also moments that made Arthur feel something he didn't understand for the boy, their hands brushing whenever Alfred handed him something, the low tone the servant used when being serious and gentle at once. The boy comforted him and made him feel confident, his smile alone made Arthur's heart race. The young Queen could never forget the wondrous feeling of those protective arms wrapped around him, holding him to a broad chest as Arthur wept out his sorrows. But despite all of that, Alfred had sided with Mr. Kirkland.

Arthur didn't realize how long he had stood there in thought until Alfred moved. Alarmed, he glanced behind him to catch a glimpse of the servant's back as the boy retreated. He groaned in frustration and paced the hall.

By his silence he had rejected Alfred. With his hesitation he had lost the only friend he had in the world.

–

Book in hand, Arthur flew out of his bed. He snatched the night robe and ran out of the bedroom, hastily jerking the cord in the adjoining drawing room. The only thing he could hear was the thumping of his heart, the Queen placed a hand on his chest as if it would calm the rapid heartbeat.

The door opened behind him and he turned to see a very grumpy looking Alfred. The blond hair was ruffled in a ridiculous bedhead, if they hadn't been in the midst of an argument Arthur might have laughed and teased him about it. That thought cooled his excitement quicker than anything else could have.

Swallowing tightly, Arthur simply said, "Bring Yao to me at once."

Alfred nodded silently and shut the door behind him as he obeyed. If he was concerned then he didn't show it.

Arthur exhaled slowly as he placed the book he had been reading on the mantle of the empty fireplace, wrapping the robe over his sleepwear. As the Queen he needed to be somewhat presentable, even if it was an unreasonable hour in the night. Then he sat in an overstuffed chair and waited.

It only seemed moments before the sound of footsteps on the carpet reached his ears and he looked up in renewed eagerness as the door open. Yao flew in, still fully dressed in his silky robes although he looked tired and irritated. Alfred shut the door behind him. They both waited for the servant's footsteps to retreat down the hall before facing each other.

"And what is so urgent that His Highness would summon me at this hour?" Yao asked in a tense voice. Arthur guessed he had about three seconds to explain himself before the man before him snapped.

"I found the answer," he said, standing up quickly and lifting the book from its place on the mantle. "I know what is it Gilbert did to me."

The Jack's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He folded his arms, Arthur was coming to recognize that as his listening stance. The brunet was silent for a moment before nodding.

"If you would care to explain your discovery."

"This is one of the journals of the previous Queens," Arthur began. "Queen Sapphire. Luckily for us she was insistent on recording on all vital information even if it was too personal to be considered important. In one entry, she wrote that on the night of her coronation she was visited by the very same man that we know as Gilbert."

"And?" Yao stepped closer. The ex monk normally kept himself composed but even he couldn't completely hide his growing excitement at this discovery.

"Gilbert granted her the ability to use magic," Arthur breathed. He could barely keep himself from smiling. "Think about it, Yao! It was a blessing, not a curse! Because of her immense power Queen Sapphire left her mark on history as one of our most beloved past rulers!"

"Why would this being grant such blessings?" Yao asked skeptically.

"I don't know but this is extraordinary news!" Arthur paced the room, clutching the book to his chest and laughing giddily. "I am not weak. I am powerful."

"There has to be more to this. What does Gilbert get in return for you being a magic wielder?" Yao stood in the middle of the room, watching his peer practically prance around. His cynicism fell upon deaf ears.

"Who cares?" Arthur waved a hand carelessly. "I must learn how to use this magic! I will look through the Tarot library to see if more Queens have left behind useful information."

"As you wish, but I suggest you return to bed and look at this situation with a fresh mind in the morning," Yao grumbled. He uncrossed his arms and walked toward the door leading out to the hall. "I would be wary if I were you."

"Of course, I'm not going to do anything rash! Goodnight, Yao."

"Goodnight, Arthur." The door shut firmly behind the Jack on his departure.

Arthur went back to his bedroom and lay on his back on the mattress, clutching the old journal to his chest. He couldn't sleep, he felt wide awake and alert. If only he could navigate the corridors of the temple himself! Then he could have information in no time and master this new power. Arthur allowed himself one more breathy laugh into the empty room. Oh he could see himself now, respected throughout the land and seen as a strong man. Who needed a king when these people could have Arthur Kirkland, soon to be the most powerful Queen in all history? Yes...yes, that sounded quite nice. Then he'd show the world what he was capable of.

Spinning these spectacular fantasies in his mind, Arthur gradually feel asleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Oh, Arthur... *shakes head***

 **Much angst in chapter. Very poor romance writing skills. Yay! Still, I hope this chapter was enjoyable! The romance is building, there's going to be a ton of it in the next few chapters. I'll do my best to not suck terribly and update as regularly as I can. -And yes, everyone, Arthur is a magic Queen.-**

 **THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ, FOLLOWED, FAVORITED, AND REVIEWED! I say it every chapter but I can never express my gratitude enough. Thank you!**

 **And now I will respond to the reviews left of Chapter 6 (because most of them made me chuckle in evil amusement):**

 **To Dangara2610: Yes, there was a reason for the violent scene so I'm glad to hear you still find the rating appropriate even with that. As for finding out what will happen next...the only way to do that is keep reading. ;3**

 **To DarkSolQueen: You're welcome.**

 **To Natsume-Erika: Actually I do have plans for Matthew. You will be seeing him again (although not for sometime). King Alfred is on his way! ...Someday...*crickets*...Alfred, hurry up.**

 **To Kadek-is-the-Best: I wish you luck with that.**

 **To Blackfox0100: Good observation. I won't say much more than that, I will reveal it later in the story as well as the reason why Alfred had the mark so young. And you'll find out how Matthew felt about it. x3 Thank you!**

 **To jokermun: Thank you! You'll find out what happened to Matthew when I bring him back. I'm pretty pleased at the close attention you've given to the details of the story. XD More USUK action on deh way!**

 **To HetalianWaffle: Yes, I love dropping hints. Pay attention and you will be greatly rewarded. And thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the story! As for the last part...good luck trying to find me cause 1) never rush a process and 2) I'm in outer space so ha!**

 **And finally, to RJG Lover and PandaYuki-Chibi: Thank you both very much! I love getting feedbacks on the mechanics of my writing itself. It really helps me keep the story in good quality.**

 **Again, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter and continue this journey with me! Until next time! *salutes***


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII.**

A gentle breeze swept back wheat colored hair from his forehead, the tile of the roof slick under his shoes as he carefully made his way across the forest of stone spires. Alfred had discovered secret paths and stairs on the roof of the palace a few days before Arthur's coronation. It had been a total accident, he had been leaning too far out of a window when he fell only to land on a ledge below. Since then Alfred had slipped in and out of windows to aid him in all of his duties without being confronted. He liked his secret. The servant would climb the roof of the tallest tower to watch the sun set and the stars rise. As much as he loved company, he appreciated the time he had alone on these secret paths.

Alfred paused by a statue of an angel warrior, her stone hair tussled back as if she was leaning against a frozen gale. She overlooked the grounds far below with a mighty sword raised high above her head as if to land the death blow to her enemy. Alfred reached forward and gently touched the giant feathered wings on her back, admiring the beauty of the statue.

This angel would forever guard the palace as she was designed to but not many would know it. The building was so large and vast there had to be a hundred statues scattered about the roofs, too far above the world to be clearly seen. Their bravery would go unacknowledged.

Alfred sighed heavily and allowed his hand to slide off the cold stone before continuing on his way. It was stupid to think that the statues were alive, as if they truly were guardian angels looking on to the world below. But he felt like he needed someone he could relate to. A statue seemed an appropriate candidate.

Following the twists and turns of the hidden path, Alfred came across a window ledge and slowed cautiously. He crept to the edge of the glass before peeking inside to the room behind it. Arthur sat in the study with his back to the window, bent over an old book. The Queen only moved to get into a more comfortable position or to turn the page. This was growing incredibly common these days. Arthur was busy with work, as he was the first Queen to carry the burden of the missing King, and also obsessed over a collection of books Alfred had never seen before. The green eyed man was careful to keep them hidden out of everyone's sight, including Alfred's. It stung to know Arthur couldn't trust him with such secrets anymore.

Alfred sighed heavily and scoot back, straightening up. Despite Arthur having asked him many times to forget the bargain he had made with Mr. Kirkland, he couldn't. Whether or not the young man could see it, Alfred still cared deeply. And so the servant kept his distance so he could continue protecting Arthur as he had promised. He felt very much like the stone guardian angel, alone and unseen but forever faithful to their thankless task.

Out of boredom, Alfred decided to explore more of the path that he hadn't seen yet. The palace was huge and the servant loved exploring it inside and out. He began to make his way up the stone stairs carved into the walls, jumping from roof to roof as he climbed his way across the mountain structure. Alfred had wanted to show Arthur the paths but so much had happened and now they were barely on speaking terms. Every time they were in the same room it was awkward. At least out here Alfred could breathe freely.

The blue eyed man paused as he surveyed the area before him. Somehow he had made his way to the Western side of the palace, the stones darkened in shadows. Before him was a gap between roofs, him being on the taller tower looking at the narrow ledge below. Alfred debated the wisdom of making the jump for a moment before shrugging to himself.

 _No risk, no gain_ , he thought.

He jumped.

Alfred realized his mistake too late. The ledge was slanted at an angle that was invisible to him before and the tiles were slippery with an odd damp. Those simple factors were enough to cause regret. The second his feet slammed onto the slick stone he lost his balance. He waved his arms as if he were frantically attempting to fly. This only lasted a short second before he began to tumble sideways into the gap, his shoulder hitting the sharp edge of the roof. Alfred yelled wordlessly in pain and terror as he fell. Then without warning his descent was halted abruptly, his body slamming into cold wet stone.

Shaken from his fall, Alfred lay still for a moment. He sucked air into his lungs and opened his eyes as he eased himself into a sitting position. Somehow he had landed on an overlarge gutter made of stone, the width of it served more as a slide than for drainage. Crystal water trickled merrily down along the stone and soaked the servant.

Alfred hissed through his teeth and gripped his sore shoulder. "Why do ya have to be so cold?"

The water only continued its lilting chant as it swept through him, a gurgling sound emitted nearby as if to laugh at the servant's predicament. Alfred ignored it for the moment as he looked up at the ledge he had fallen off of. It looked too high to reach and there were no safe handholds that he could see. Rolling his shoulder, the boy debated what was the best option. If he climbed up then he might be able to crawl onto the roof again at some point. But a glance below him tugged at his curiosity, forgetting that this very childish instinct had led him to fall in the first place.

Holding the edge of the gutter with one hand with the other braced against the wall, the servant began to scoot down the slide with the flow of the water. It curved into the stone wall, gradually slanting down as it wound around the tower. Finally the gutter reached a dead end and Alfred was forced to stop. Instead of ending in a spout to drain the water as it should have, the gutter ran into the wall of the tower, a grating holding back any stray leaves that might have found its way into the current.

"That doesn't make sense," Alfred murmured in confusion.

He reached forward and tugged at the metal grating, surprised that it came loose so easily. Quickly, he scooped up the blockage of leaves and tossed it over his shoulder before it could be swept inside the sewage tunnel. Alfred carefully propped the grating onto the wall and began to crawl into the small space.

If there was one thing Alfred hated it was tight places. He groaned a little as he miserably crawled through the dark, wet tunnel. Sometimes he didn't even know why he put himself through half the trouble he did. It was just impulse. However, when the tunnel opened up into a dark room Alfred was thankful for his curiosity. The gutter ran directly into a fountain, pure water splashing on white stone. There wasn't any windows or doors in this room, only dark cracks extending almost six feet up from the floor were in the walls with blue crystals lighting the way.

Awed, Alfred jumped off the gutter and stood in the middle of the room. The only sound was of the running water, which he could now see continued in a little stream on the floor and disappeared into the dark. He wasn't sure how long he stood there as he savored the simplistic peace of the secret room. The servant was aware he was probably the only one who had entered it in a long time, perhaps for hundreds of years. Finally he shook himself as a draft wafted in from the gutter behind him, causing him to shiver. Alfred needed to change his out of his wet clothes before he got sick.

Picking a random crack in the wall, he left the room.

* * *

Two days had passed since Alfred discovered the lone room in the palace and he had no time to even think about it again. His tasks were becoming more difficult to carry out, there was so much that he needed to see to as a servant alone. Arthur was making it increasingly harder for him to see to his safety as he would disappear with Yao for hours on end. The boy felt himself being pulled was taunt as a string, ready to snap from the pressure at any second.

The worst part of it all were the arguments.

" _Alfred, this is unnecessary. This palace is heavily guarded with soldiers and experts who wouldn't even let a stray mouse through those gates!"_

" _That man got through the night of your coronation and looked at what happened!" Alfred snapped, heedless of how reckless his behavior was. "You've changed since then! I understand why you would doubt me but closing me out completely is going too far!"_

" _That is none of your business!"_

Gravel rattled under his feet softly as if to keep quiet for the sake of everyone sleeping. The night air was sharp with coldness, the season was changing into autumn. Alfred regretted not bringing a coat with him. The servant could see the path through the gardens clearly by the bright harvest moon. Green hedges served as walls for mazes while the thick cluster of trees served as a ceiling, the floor often switching between stone and grass. It was a beautiful place.

But Alfred had come here for a specific purpose, this wasn't a leisurely midnight stroll. And he knew exactly where he needed to go. It took him a few minutes to locate the place but once the sweet scent filled his nose he knew he was going the right direction. Soon his feet came upon slate which formed a circular opening with a small fountain in the center. This was the Rose Garden, brimmed full with the elegant flowers of all kinds and color. The fountain was filled with dirt rather than water, a bush of blue roses cascading around the stone where the liquid would've fallen. And there, sitting on the edge of the fountain, was the most beautiful sight of them all.

Arthur had his back straightened in perfect posture, giving him an air of dignity and elegance that so many envied. It wasn't hard too see him as the Queen. Over his rich clothes he wore a light coat to keep him warm, his pale hands buried deep into the pockets. His face was flushed from the cold and his eyes were alight with vibrancy. Alfred couldn't help but think this is where the Queen belonged, among the roses.

Of course, this peaceful sight was brief. The moment Arthur saw him those thick eyebrows lowered dangerously and his lips curled into a nasty scowl. His shoulder rose as his body tensed, like a wolf rising his hackles to prepare for a fight.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a hostile tone.

"I thought you'd like some company," Alfred shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. His body felt heavy and his mind too torn to feel like fighting. He didn't want to do fall into another argument.

"Don't play games with me," Arthur snapped and turned away. "I know why you're here and I've told you many times before, this behavior is unnecessary."

A thorn dug into the servant's heart, the vessel pumping painfully with each breath he took. "Arthur, can we please just talk?"

"Talk? Of course. Let's talk." the Queen spun around again, stepping around the fountain and sitting on the edge. Alfred could easily see the stone being turned into a throne just as the rapid change of Arthur's mood. It made him uneasy.

"Why are you so cold toward me? What did I do to you?" Alfred asked.

"What did you do? Alfred, please tell me you're joking."

"I'm serious!" he couldn't help but raise his voice. "You've left me in the dark for too long! I just want answers!"

"You lied about who you were for as long as I've known you," Arthur's tone was frosty.

"I said I was sorry! What is your problem with me?!"

"Perhaps it is the same problem that everyone has with me," Arthur sneered, standing up impatiently. "I'm not incapable! Just because I am in the position of Queen does not mean I'm a weakling!"

"I never thought you were!"

"And yet you condone the pretense of protecting me. That is not your place, Alfred."

"I didn't just do it for your father!" Alfred shouted. "I did it because you were my friend!"

Arthur froze, his expression softening in surprise for just a brief moment. Then a bitter poison reached those green eyes and he shook his head, anger returning.

"And you turned out just like everyone else."

The breath caught in Alfred throat and for a moment he couldn't speak. Arthur scoffed, as if expecting this, and began to walk toward the path back to the palace. His body reacted before he realized what he was doing, Alfred reached out and grabbed the young Queen's arm, halting his movement.

"Arthur, you know I'm not like them. I've always been by your side and I will continue to. I promise."

Arthur jerked his arm out of the servant's grip, his voice shaking with emotion and eyes now glistening with unshed tears that Alfred had missed before. "Spare me your empty promises."

The taller blond could only watch in broken defeat as Arthur stormed toward the path, clearly finished discussing the issue. Alfred stared, feeling that there truly was no hope before a deep fear seized him.

"Arthur!" he screamed, running forward.

If it hadn't been for the urgency in Alfred's tone, Arthur would've ignored it. But he spun short-temperately only to find himself face to face with a monster of a man, shrouded entirely in black, a veil hiding the facial features. In the stranger's hand was a long, wicked silver knife that glinted under the light of the moon. It was undoubtedly an assassin.

The young Queen stood frozen in shock as the shadowy figure lunged faster than a horse at him, the knife raised high to impale him. Then Alfred was there. The boy's strong arms wrapped themselves around the assassin, abruptly stopping the advance. The assassin hissed and growled inhumanly, thrashing in response. Arthur stumbled a few steps back numbly as he watched the fight.

Alfred received many kicks to his shins but didn't even wince in pain. The assassin suddenly twisted unnaturally in the servant's grip, the knife flashing toward his blond head. Arthur started to shout but Alfred ducked, although not fast enough. The silver of the blade was tainted in crimson blood as it embedded itself into Alfred's shoulder, the young man screaming in pain.

The assassin freed himself at last and cruelly pulled the knife out, turning toward the Queen as Alfred collapsed to his knees. Frantically, Arthur ran the newest spells he had learned from the past Queen's diary in his head. What was the incantation?!

He would've been killed if not for Alfred. Just as the assassin once again began his charge, Alfred suddenly reared himself forward and tackled the man, both grunting as they fell to the ground. At that moment, a memory clicked in Arthur's head and he raised his hands, palms out, as he rapidly spoke the incantation.

Light, purer and brighter than anything he had ever seen, flooded from his hands, the raw energy invisibly attacking the assassin. The criminal howled and writhed, kicking Alfred mercilessly in the face before lurching as if in a sudden seizure. Then the shadowy figure dissolved into dust, the knife clattering to the tiles.

For a moment, the only sound came from the heavy pants of the remaining people in the garden. Arthur stood in complete shock, staring at the pile of black dust in horror and disgust. Alfred slowly pushed himself to his knees, dark blood straining his shirt and skin as he pressed a hand on the wound.

"Your Highness!"

Arthur turned to see a group of soldiers running toward them, Yao among them. Something between a whine and a sigh escaped his lips in relief, before a thought struck him and he spun around. Ignoring the help that had come almost too late, he knelt by Alfred and began pulling at the young man's shirt.

"He's been wounded," Arthur spoke urgently to the soldiers when they arrived. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one run off for a medic.

"You alright?" Alfred slurred, barely conscious from the loss of blood.

"Hush," Arthur snapped more sternly than he meant to. The servant looked horrible, pale and weak, those sky eyes unfocused. Even though this was the person he had been so angry toward only moments ago, Arthur found he couldn't suppress his deep worry.

"What happened?" Yao asked, his voice pitched slightly higher out of panic.

"Now is not the time!" Arthur glared at the Jack before ripping at Alfred's shirt again. "He needs help, right now!"

"M'fine...just a scratch," Alfred laughed weakly.

"The loss of blood has made you delusional!" Arthur shouted.

Yao knelt beside Arthur and tugged the ruined shirt low enough to show the wound on his shoulder and part of his chest. The Jack suddenly froze and then tore the rest of it open. Just as Arthur was about to utter a protest, his eyes finally caught what Yao's had seconds earlier. There, on Alfred's heavily scarred chest, was an elaborately tattooed crest. The Spade was directly in the center, the ink a deep blue, feathered wings extending mid-flight magnificently on each side. In the center of the symbol was a simple crown.

Yao's mouth opened and shut. Then it opened again. "Th-this is the mark of the king!"

Alfred's face contorted in dazed confusion before he looked down at himself.

"How'd that get there?" he said in amazement and then slumped over in a dead faint.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Alfred's turn to pass out~! But unlike Arthur it was a result from blood loss, pain and shock rather than magic. Aahhh good fun.**

 **I suck. I had only about two pages left to finish this chapter and I was on schedule and then out of nowhere-BAM-writer's block. It wasn't that I didn't know what to write, I just couldn't. So I'm working on getting it fixed. I don't know when I will post the next chapter, I really do like the schedule I had before, so I'll try and work up to that pace again. But don't worry, I won't leave this fic sitting forever.**

 **Originally, Alfred's mark being discovered was not going to happen until very much later in the story. But as I was writing I realized it needed to happen. Pronto. So to those who have been waiting impatiently for this moment...here you go.**

 **Thank you to everyone reading! Especially to those who have reviewed, favorited and are following faithfully. Really, it means a lot.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter (even though I think it's not in the best quality, I figured you guys deserved _something_ after so long a wait). Until next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX.**

When Alfred opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his room. Or in the servant's infirmary. High above him was a large ceiling of soft blue hues, he felt like he was lying on the ground looking up at the sky. On one hand it was soothing, but on the other he was unnerved at how unfamiliar this ceiling was to him. He didn't know where he was.

The second thing he noticed was that his body felt strange. It was as if he was completely covered by a warm, fuzzy blanket that made him sleepy. Alfred almost decided that sleep would actually be very nice until a face leaned over him. If his limbs didn't feel so heavy he might have jumped.

"I see you're awake, Your Majesty," the face said.

Alfred blinked, trying to clear his vision.

The face belonged to a man who looked to be nearing his late thirties, he seemed to be dressed in a smart black coat. Alfred didn't recognize him.

"I think you've made a mistake," Alfred replied, startled by the sound of his own voice. It was strange to his ears, like someone had poured copious amounts of honey down his throat to slow his speech.

The man chuckled softly and adjusted the pillow behind Alfred's head. "No mistake has been made, Your Majesty, not with the brand on your chest."

"The what?" Alfred tried to sit up but slumped back weakly, his head compressing uncomfortably at his sudden movement.

Tutting him gently, the man leaned over him once again, his eyes shrewd but not unkind. "Easy, Sire. You have a deep wound in your shoulder that has barely had time to heal. It's best to just rest."

But Alfred was barely listening. His mind whirled in a confused muck as he began to remember what had happened. He was amazed to realize his shoulder didn't hurt, but it took only a few seconds of dazed pondering for him to reach the conclusion that he had been given a strong medicine, thus the odd fuzzy feeling throughout his body. Then he remembered the discovery of the mark, although that memory was even hazier. Someone had thought he had the mark of the Spade King. There was no doubt in Alfred's mind, however, that they had clearly been mistaken.

Rolling his head back slowly onto the pillow, Alfred licked his lips, secretly fascinated at how they tingled at the contact, before speaking again. "Where am I? How long have I been unconscious?"

"Many a hour, Your Majesty," the man as his side answered. "A full day has passed since the incident, many are anxiously awaiting the news of your condition. And we are currently in the King's chambers."

Alfred wanted to close his eyes, but he knew if he did then he would probably sleep for hours more. He wanted answers now. "But...I'm not the king."

"Not officially, no," the man agreed.

That produced a frustrated huff from Alfred but he decided to drop that matter for the moment, he felt too drowsy to even bother. "Who are you?"

"I'm the palace physician, Dr. Carte," the doctor finally straightened up, adjusting his dark coat. "You had been seriously injured, although the cut was clean and there was no poison on the blade. I have cleaned it so it shan't be infected, although I will be visiting regularly to be sure that it is healing properly. For now, Your Majesty, the best thing you can do for yourself is rest."

"Stop calling me that," Alfred muttered petulantly as he let his heavy eyelids drift shut.

The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was the doctor's soft chuckle.

* * *

Alfred woke feeling refreshed, the medicine having worn off. He started to move but a lightning rod of pain raced up his body and he groaned. His agony did not go unnoticed as Dr. Carte popped into his line of vision again.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," the man said with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better and worse?" Alfred answered in confusion.

The doctor chuckled understandably before helping Alfred into a slouched sitting position. "I'm sure your head is clearer but with it comes pain. I will give you a smaller dosage of the medicine to help."

Alfred nodded his thanks, distracted by the room surrounding him. Now that he could see more than the ceiling, his eyes greedily took in the glamour. The room was large, the walls curved in a vague circular shape. The walls, the rugs, the curtains, the furniture, was all accented in the color blue and lined in silver. Undoubtedly, it was a regal room and Alfred felt his presence violated its richness.

The doctor brought a cup to his lips and he sipped, surprised it was simply clear water. But the cool, clear liquid was exactly what he needed and he savored it. Never had he been so grateful for water. Then the doctor lifted a small bowl to him. Alfred didn't doubt it was the medicine when he smelled it. Wrinkling his nose, he somehow managed to drink the contents without gagging. Luckily, the man was intuitive enough to let him sip more water to rid his mouth of the taste.

"It'll take some time before you begin to feel its effect," Dr. Carte stood once more, setting the cup on a table by the head of the large bed. "Just sit still and relax."

Alfred settled on the pillows reluctantly.

It would've been more comfortable if he had earned this attention. He should correct the mistake as soon as possible. But just as he opened his mouth to bring the matter up, the doctor looked at him and asked, "Do you feel well enough for visitors?"

Alfred blinked in surprise, caught off guard. "I...yes, I guess so."

"Good. There are some people who have been waiting to see you," the doctor crossed the room and opened the door to the outer chambers.

Within a moment, Arthur stepped through the door into the room, followed closely behind by Yao. They ignored the doctor completely, the man stepped out and shut the door to give them privacy. The Jack sat at the chair beside the bed since Arthur had stopped at the foot. Alfred swallowed nervously. The Queen wasn't looking directly at him.

"What's going on?" Alfred asked, breaking the tense atmosphere first. "I don't understand why I'm here, I'm not the king."

Yao raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps the medicine has gotten to your brain. Or maybe even your eyes."

Alfred bristled at the insult. "It did not! I'm just a servant!"

Arthur flinched but Alfred wasn't left much time to wonder as Yao leaned forward, his dark eyes piercing.

"Are you absolutely sure? Because the last time we checked, the mark of the king was clearly on your chest."

"I'm sure," Alfred said, growing uneasy. The only explanation would be that they had mistaken his scars for a mark under the cover of the night. It didn't sit well with him that so many had seen his vulnerability.

"If I may be permitted in helping you remove your shirt," Yao all but smirked, subtly throwing the challenge.

Alfred hesitated and glanced at Arthur, who still refused to meet his eyes, before sighing. If only to resolve this misunderstanding then he could bear revealing his shame. He consented with a nod and shifted as he sat up. Yao stood and carefully pulled the shirt over his head and good arm, letting the cloth fall on his injured shoulder. Alfred looked down at himself, his jaw instantly dropping.

There, embedded among the torrent of scars across his chest, was the crest inked in deep blue. Alfred numbly touched it, his skin didn't feel any different but the mark was undeniably there. He looked up and his eyes finally caught Arthur's, the deep emerald burning with an emotion Alfred couldn't read. The contact was broken when Yao reached to help dress Alfred again.

For a long moment it was silent, the newly found King and Jack occupied with their struggle to put Alfred's shirt back on. After an awkward lapse in the conversation, Alfred finally sank back into the pillows. He was unable to comprehend what a simple tattoo implied.

"How can I be the king?" he asked, his voice subdued at the discovery.

"The marks only go to the most worthy for the task," Yao answered simply, brushing off the question. "What intrigues me is how did the mark come to be? You haven't visited the sacred pool, we hadn't even gotten through the middle class citizens before your mark was found."

"I'm not sure," Alfred said slowly. He briefly thought about his findings on the palace roof but it was a secret he preferred to keep to himself.

Yao narrowed his eyes and hummed suspiciously, although he seemed to drop the issue. "Whatever the case may be, we shall begin the arrangements for your coronation."

"But I don't know anything about being a ruler," Alfred immediately protested.

"We are here to help and guide you," Yao said calmly, his expression softening. "That is why our monarchy is set up the way it is, for each of the rulers to trust and depend on one another."

Alfred glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. The Queen hadn't moved or spoken since entering the room and the drawn out silence was getting under the former servant's skin. Unable to stand it anymore, Alfred looked directly at him and asked, "How are you?"

Arthur jolted, his expression flashed briefly like a child's caught doing something they know they shouldn't before his cold mask returned. "I'm fine."

Yao sighed heavily. "You two are going to have to get along and not just by the skin of your teeth. Whatever grudge you hold towards each other needs to be resolved as soon as possible." Before either of the two younger men could protest, the Jack narrowed his eyes pointedly. "For the good of the kingdom."

Instantly that stifled any protests that were on their tongues. Yao seemed to sense this change of attitude because he nodded and stood.

"I'll let you two discuss this. There are many matters I need to see to." With a sweep of his robes, the Jack left the room.

Alfred turned his gaze back to Arthur and found with surprise that the Queen was actually looking at him. The expression was guarded and his green eyes were slightly downcast, Alfred realized that he was staring at his chest. The former servant shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't want to fight anymore, Arthur," he said slowly. "I just want to understand why you've been pushing me away."

A steely glint entered Arthur's eyes. "You can hardly blame me, can you?"

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, caught off guard.

"You, more than anyone else in this palace, know what my past was like. My own family misunderstood me on a daily basis, they wanted to force me into an image that I just could not become. I had no one and no one cared for me."

"That's not true-"

"Is it?" Arthur snapped, stepping closer to the head of the bed. "I can hardly believe that, Alfred. You were only five when you came into your agreement with my father, you probably didn't even think twice about the consequences of your decision. You just wanted shelter and food. I can't blame you for that, you were only a child, but you've grown up so I'd rather you didn't pretend!"

"Is this what it's all about?" Alfred asked, realization finally dawning. "You think I pretended to be your friend just to get on your father's good side?"

"Why else would you stay with me?" Arthur stepped closer, no longer hiding the pain and rage in his face, his pale hands trembled with emotion.

Alfred's arm moved so fast it was only a blur, his good arm shot out and grabbed the Queen's wrist, pulling him closer. Green met blue as their gazes locked onto each other intently.

"I thought you knew that's not true," Alfred murmured, his voice softer but no less heavy with meaning. "I like you, Arthur. If I wanted to impress your father I wouldn't have let you run off on your own to read while we were at the manor. The night of your coronation, I stayed by your side until you woke up because I was afraid. Because I didn't take my task as seriously as I should have, someone got near you, you could have gotten hurt. I swore from then on that I would protect you, not because of my promise to your father, but because I care about you. And that's the truth."

Arthur's eyes widened and his hand began to shake in Alfred's grip. He seemed to be on the verge of tears but Alfred refused to break his gaze, letting his eyes convey the feelings he couldn't. Arthur seemed to understand and he seemed afraid. No, now Alfred knew that he was truly afraid. Arthur was afraid to trust only to get hurt, like he had in the past.

Without warning, Arthur wrenched his hand away, his smaller chest rising and falling rapidly. Alfred let him go. The Queen didn't hesitate as he turned and ran out of the room, leaving the to-be king to sit in silence.

* * *

Arthur paced in the dark restlessly. He hadn't even bothered to undress, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. There were so many thoughts whirling in his head, he was giving himself a headache trying to make sense of it all. Duty as the Queen put aside, Arthur had many troubles. Because the attacker had been reduced to nothing but ash, no one had been able to identify the assassin from several nights before. The matter was kept very quiet, although those who knew of it were spooked. No one knew how it was possible for anyone to slip so easily into the palace without any of the security noticing. The assassination of just one ruler could easily plummet the kingdom into ruin. And yet that was only the beginning.

Arthur rubbed his hands together lightly and shuddered at the memory of the pure energy pouring from them. It had been instinctive when he made that incantation. He later found the spell in a different Queen's journal, the woman had been a fierce warrior and all feared her because she was able to turn her enemies to dust with just a flick of her wrist. And Arthur had used that power carelessly.

" _What the hell were you thinking?!" Yao snapped the moment they were alone. "This is exactly why I had warned you about being cautious toward using that magic!"_

" _It was an emergency," Arthur answered numbly, stunned that he was being yelled at for his actions._

" _Maybe so but what if you trigger it when you don't need it? What if you couldn't have been able to control it or stop it? That was extremely careless of you and as Queen you cannot afford to make those kinds of mistakes!"_

" _I'm sorry! I didn't know..." Arthur swallowed tightly, gathering what little composure he could. "It was reflex. But I understand your concern and I will learn how to control it. I won't let this happen again."_

 _Yao stared at him before sighing heavily and rubbing his eyes. "Get rest. You're still in shock and it is not the time to have this conversation."_

Arthur shuddered and dropped his hands. What he had done was truly unacceptable. He needed to control and understand these powers before using them. Thinking back on the night that they were bequeathed to him, he couldn't help the sinking feeling that weighed down his stomach. Gilbert had said all of the previous Queens' powers. There had been many Queens and each power was difficult to learn and master. It was overwhelming. For the first time, Arthur saw this "blessing" as the burden it was and wondered why he had been chosen to carry it.

And then, of course, there was Alfred.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts and he spun around to see a servant peek around his door.

"Excuse me," the maiden bobbed in a curtsy. "The Jack has asked to speak with you, he's waiting in his study."

"Thank you, tell him I'll be there momentarily," Arthur answered.

The door shut and Arthur sighed, putting on his coat that he had draped over the back of a chair. It was getting colder as the season got later into the year, at night the air was frosty even inside the palace. He was reluctant to leave his chambers, where there was a warm fire in each room. But Yao had summoned him and every time that had happened it was for a very important reason. It couldn't be ignored until morning.

The Queen quickly made his way down the cold, silent halls. He was already used to the dark and he knew his way quite well by now. It didn't take him long before he was opening the door to Yao's study and stepping inside. The room wasn't as large as Arthur's own office but it was still rather rich in appearance while still remaining cozy. Every surface was currently covered in books and papers. Yao stood behind his desk, his palms pressed flat against the wood as he leaned on it. At Arthur's entrance, he looked up and pushed his weight back onto his feet.

"I believe I have found the general source of your attacker from the other night," he said simply.

Arthur shut the door firmly behind him and hurried to the desk. Now that he was closer, he could see the silver knife that the assassin had been using. He suppressed the urge to shudder as he remembered the sound of it slicing through Alfred's flesh. It had been cleaned since then, revealing strange symbols carved into the blade.

"You tracked him with the weapon?" Arthur guessed.

Yao nodded. "And the result is extremely disturbing."

"How so?"

Yao met Arthur's eyes solemnly, his lips pressed in a grim line. "These symbols are ancient, they originate from the Tarot kingdom."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat. "But that's impossible, the Tarot kingdom had fallen thousands of years ago."

"Someone is reawakening the powers of old," Yao responded. "As this is the second visitor we've had from the same source, we can assume that whoever it is does not have good intentions. Your life, Arthur, is in grave danger."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I'm baaaack. Mwahaha. I don't know when I'll update again but I have decided that I will post the 10th chapter before the end of this year. Now that I'm further along in the story and have a feeling for it, I think this fic will be approximately 20 chapters long, maybe less. So we're almost to the half-way point, y'all!**

 **Thank you to everyone who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed. It means a lot to know that people are enjoying my work (or at least are interested enough to read it).**

 **I'm going to make this clear to those who might not have guessed it: Yes, the water in the gutter Alfred was crawling in is the same water as the pool, so that's what revealed his mark. SO RANDOM SHOUT OUT TO Blackfox0100 FOR GUESSING IT! It seemed like a pointless thing to add and I admit it was kind of a filler chapter until the end. But this chapter ain't no filler! And this officially marks when the two lovebirds start to really realize their feelings for each other. The romance train has finally pulled in! Toot, toot! *ahem* anyhoo...**

 **Thanks again for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will update before the end of this month, however busy it may be. Until next time. *salutes***


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X.**

Alfred's education began very simply. Arthur stormed into his room, where he was forced to remain to rest, and dropped an armful of books at the foot of the bed.

"Read," Arthur snapped.

Startled in silence, Alfred picked up a book with his good arm and began to read obediently. Arthur retreated to the furthest window, crossing his arms as he looked at the view outside. The leaves were falling off the trees, leaving bare skeletons that seemed to reach desperately for nonexistent sunlight. He stood there several minutes in silence before he turned his attention back to the bed, eyes narrowed.

"You're not reading," the Queen said moodily.

"Yes, I am!" Alfred's head snapped up, his shoulder stiffening at the accusation.

"I've been here for quite some time and you haven't turned a single page!"

Uncertainty flashes in Alfred's eyes and he glanced back down at the book in his hand. "I can read," he muttered sullenly. "Just really slow."

Regret flared in Arthur's chest and he glanced away, unable to look at the expression on Alfred's face. He couldn't help but lash out, and yet there was no real reason for him to unleash his frustrations on the boy. Alfred was trying, he always tried hard at whatever he did and Arthur knew that.

Letting a sigh escape him, Arthur straightened his back and glanced toward the bed. "I apologize for jumping to conclusions."

Alfred looked up in surprise before nodding to show he accepted it. Silence fell over the room again before Alfred coughed, catching Arthur's attention.

"Can you help me? I'm having trouble with some of the words."

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over the book. "Show me."

Within a couple of minutes, Arthur brushed up Alfred's literary skills. He learned that Alfred was a good student, quick and attentive. True, he wasn't perfect and tried to rush the process. Often he would try to read a complicated sentence only to trail off in frustration, but he kept trying and applied himself fully. It was an admirable trait but Arthur didn't let his thoughts show, only continuing to guide the boy through the pages.

Their improvised lesson was interrupted with a soft knock of the door. Dr. Carte opened the door and stepped inside, carrying his medical bag to the bed.

"Excuse me, Your Majesties, but it's time to change the bandages. I shan't be very long."

Arthur took the book and withdrew to a chair nearby and watched silently. As the doctor removed the bandages, air vacuumed into the Queen's lungs at the sight of the wound. Alfred's shoulder now had a deep gash, the skin fading from a bruised purple to a pale, puckered white as the flesh knit itself together again. Arthur's eyes wandered to the former servant's broad chest. Along with the few scars Alfred received from labor and his chest, people would have considered the young man disfigured. For Arthur, that was far from true. Each scar on Alfred's body had a story behind it, sometimes humorous but also bittersweet. Arthur ended up looking away, his face growing hot.

"I should go," he heard himself say as he stood up abruptly and set the book on the bedside table. "I have duties to see to. Keep reading, Alfred."

Both the doctor and the new-found ruler gave him confused glances, but he ignored them as he retreated out of the room quickly.

It was true he had business to see to, he absolutely _wasn't_ running away from Alfred. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would be forced to face the boy, as Queen it was his duty. He sighed heavily to himself. But that wouldn't happen for some time yet. Despite Alfred's mark being found, the coronation plans were pushed back for a few months. Arthur knew why. If a high ranking citizen had been found as king they would have been crown immediately. But a servant turned king was no easy transformation, it would take time and patience on everyone's part. And everyone certainly seemed to be struggling to cope with the change.

–

"I don't get how this has anything to do with being king," Alfred complained.

Arthur rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Since the doctor had finally permitted Alfred the freedom to move around, he found he could no longer avoid his former servant. At first the confrontations had been awkward but, as Yao had said, they were forced to quickly move on from their grudges. There were simply more important things than worrying over a ruined friendship.

"As king there are a wide variety of matters you will need to see to, social aspects included," Arthur explained once more. "The simplest way to do this are formal balls. Therefore, you will need to learn how to dance, especially if you ever consider looking for an eligible partner to marry."

Alfred blushed at that and glanced away. "I'm not even thinking about that."

"You will someday," Arthur brushed an invisible wrinkle from his vest, ignoring the poisonous dagger digging into his heart. For some reason unknown to even himself, he couldn't stand the thought of Alfred marrying.

"Wait, aren't the king and queen...?" the poor boy swallowed the rest of the question nervously.

Arthur waved his hand, unperturbed. "A common misconception. In days of old the king and queen were required to marry, but times have changed and matrimony is no longer obligatory between the two rulers. Although people still say the king and queen always hold a special relationship."

"Right," Alfred's shoulders slumped, from relief or something else Arthur couldn't tell.

"Now, no more playing around," Arthur straightened up, meeting those blue eyes defiantly. "You need to learn how to dance."

Alfred sighed heavily and stepped in front of Arthur, resigning himself to the task. The smaller man guided one of Alfred's hands to his waist, taking the other in his own slender hand. He could feel his heart begin to throb again, creating a beat that resounded in his ears. It took Arthur too long to realize that he was standing still for an abnormal amount of time.

"Move your foot," Arthur rasped out.

Confusion flashed in Alfred's eyes and he stepped forward at the same second Arthur did, crushing the Queen's toes. Arthur yelped in pain and pushed the taller blond away.

"I'm sorry! You didn't say which way!" Alfred shifted back, as if unsure what to do.

Arthur bit his tongue to keep from retorting and forced himself to plant his foot firmly on the ground rather than nurse it. He knew exaggerating the pain would make Alfred feel guilty and the boy would probably refuse to continue the dance lessons. Then all hell would break loose just because the future King of Spades couldn't dance.

Putting duty first, Arthur stepped forward and resumed the starting position of the dance. "You're leading so you will step backwards first."

Alfred hesitated and took Arthur's hand gently, doing as he was instructed. Arthur rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet and slid forward gracefully with practiced ease. This seemed to spook Alfred, who bumbled through the steps, but Arthur ignored his inexperience. Those mistakes could be smoothed out once Alfred learned the steps.

Alfred stumbled, took a wrong step, and ended up crushing Arthur's toes again. The Queen winced but refused to stop the dance. This was going to take more time than he originally thought. After wasting twenty minutes trying to turn what looked like bear wrestling into dancing, Arthur decided to try a different tactic. He shook out of Alfred's grip and moved away.

"Enough, we're getting nowhere," he sat down in the nearest chair.

Alfred's expression was like a kicked puppy, he knew he hadn't done well and failure was a hard pill for him to swallow. Although that look melted away in an instant as Arthur unlaced his shoes and slipped his socked feet out.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked, bewildered.

"Take off your shoes," Arthur stood up and tested the freshly polished floor. Perfect.

Once his student had taken off his shoes, Arthur led him further onto the empty floor before pushing against his chest to make him stay still.

"Watch me," he said simply.

Arthur began to play the beat in his head, his arms extended around an invisible partner. Then he smoothly slid like an ice-skater across the floor, leading the ghost partner in a wide circle before twirling to silent music. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alfred's face change into awe and admiration, causing the Queen to smirk proudly. Within a moment, he completed his performance and turned to the boy once more.

"Dancing is not simply stepping around with someone close by," Arthur said. "It is the art of motion, to move in expression and glide with the wings of music on your feet. You're too stiff. Relax and feel the rhythm."

They resumed first position before Arthur began to chant out the beat through a count, Alfred began to lead them both in the dance once more. This time, instead of stubbing toes, Alfred slid and wavered, focused on keeping his balance as he moved. The boy was concentrating so hard his eyebrows lowered and his lips formed a thin, determined line, making his jaw look square and resolute. Arthur shook himself and lowered his gaze to Alfred's chin, although that somehow proved just as distracting as the boy's deep blue eyes.

It took several turns before Alfred began to relax, moving much more smoothly than before as he learned how to step confidently without faltering. Arthur nodded in satisfaction, deeming the the performance improved.

"Better," he said, stepping away.

Alfred paused. "Is that it? I thought I needed to learn more."

"That's it for today," Arthur decided. He turned away and walked back to his chair to put his shoes on.

Without warning, a large blur shot right by him, causing Arthur to yell in surprise and almost slip. The Queen pressed a hand to his chest as he watched Alfred whiz by, the boy laughing loudly as he slid across the slippery floor on his socks. The former servant spun as his speed slowed, smirking at Arthur.

"Bloody hell, you almost hit me!" Arthur couldn't help snapping, still shocked over the close call.

"Oops, I missed!" Alfred began running a breakneck speed toward him.

"Alfred!" Arthur screamed, just barely dodging him again.

Alfred laughed carelessly as he slid across the room before slipping and falling abruptly on his backside. Arthur hurried to his side, worried that the fall might have hurt him, but the goofy grin turned his way instantly quelled all his worries.

"That's what you get," Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips.

Alfred chuckled, this laugh a little more gentle and subdued, and reached his hand up for help to stand. Arthur took it and caught the mischievous glint in those sky eyes too late. Rather than use the support as intended, Alfred jerked on Arthur's arm, pulling the Queen onto the floor with him. Arthur yelped as he slipped and tumbled helplessly. Fortunately, or not so fortunately, he fell against Alfred's firm chest and stomach.

At that moment they heard the creak of the door and the pair of blond heads snapped up toward the sound in unison. Yao stood in the doorway, his arms folded against his chest. He wasn't smiling but Arthur practically saw his eyes smirk down at them.

"Getting along well, I see," he said simply, his tone betraying his amusement.

Arthur felt his face heat up instantly and he scrambled away from Alfred, standing up and brushing himself off briskly. "You misunderstand. Alfred slipped and pulled me with him."

"Hmm," Yao's lips twitched into a smile, clearly not believing his Queen.

Arthur huffed in irritation and went back to the chair, plopping ungracefully into it to pull his shoes on. He caught a glimpse of the disappointment on Alfred's face as the boy stood and shuffled across the floor. Arthur swallowed back guilt, there was no reason for him to say what happened. Because nothing had truly happened, or so he told himself.

–

Arthur sighed heavily as he could hear his two shadows tromp on the garden path behind him. After the attack it had been decided that Arthur needed to be escorted and watched at as often as it was acceptable. The guards had shifts, there were always two of them and they trailed not too far wherever he went. It may have been necessary but Arthur found it annoying. He did his best to ignore them and inhaled the cool, afternoon air deeply. The sun was out today and his sink drank in the warmth. It was comforting.

As he turned the corner of the winding path, he found his stroll even further disturbed. Alfred was sitting on a stone bench with a book in his hands, which he was bent over as if laboring through the sentences. Arthur stopped and watched for a moment, taking notice how the corners of the to-be king's eyes wrinkled as if in pain. Alfred squinted and then blinked rapidly, sighing as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. That's when the boy noticed the Queen watching. He nervously smiled, dropping his hand from his face as Arthur approached and sat next to him.

Before Alfred could speak, Arthur began hurriedly, "I'm not mad at you for anything anymore, Alfred. I know it must seem that way."

Alfred blinked in surprise, his expression growing attentive. "That's...good to know."

"I should have said this sooner," Arthur looked at his own hands on his lap. "Thank you for saving me that night. I would have been dead if not for you."

Alfred gave no response, the only sound was the bitter wind that occasionally brushed through the grass. Shifting uncomfortably, Arthur finally looked up and met the boy's gaze. Alfred was smiling. It was gentle, the curve of his lips soft in an expression of warmth. Arthur could practically see the embers of hope kindle in his eyes, something of the old Alfred that he knew and loved so well was coming back to life.

"You're welcome," Alfred said.

Arthur quickly looked away again, heat flood his face. Despite how bitter he seemed, he really did feel better repairing their what was left of their old bond. It would take time before either of them completely got over the issue, Arthur especially, but it was comforting to know that each was holding on for the other.

An awkward silence fell over the two. Arthur was conflicted as to whether or not to try to start a conversation or just get up and leave. But, as always, Alfred saved him the trouble by acting first.

"How did you feel when you realized you would be Queen?" he asked.

It was Arthur's turn to look at his companion in surprise before pondering the question. "Shocked at first. I dreaded it before the coronation. I was a little afraid." Arthur gave him a shrewd glance. "Why are you asking?"

Alfred shrugged, his normal cheerfulness obscured by dark clouds on his face. "I don't know...I just...I think this is a big mistake."

"The marks are rarely wrong," Arthur stated flatly. Then he sighed and added more softly, "I thought very much the same thing when my mark was found."

"But it doesn't feel right," Alfred protested, his agitation that he had been hiding so well suddenly becoming clear. "I don't feel like a king. I'm just me."

"It's not a matter of feeling, Alfred. Just being yourself may be exactly what this kingdom needs. I've known you almost my entire life, and throughout that time I've always known you were capable of carrying whatever burden you needed to. I know you can do this."

Their gazes locked, Alfred's eyes were almost desperate. "What if I make a mistake?"

"Then you'll learn from it," Arthur said gently. He reached out and touched Alfred's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, I believe you will be a good king. I can trust that you will do whatever is right. And you aren't alone. I'll be here to support you."

Alfred slowly smiled and Arthur smiled back, trying to ignore the feeling of lightness in his chest. It was as if his heart had grown a pair of wings and took flight, losing itself into those endless skies that would become his king.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the corny, cliche overused tool of romance: dancing. I was running out of ideas. Uuugghhh I'm not too happy with how I've been writing the romance side of the story, even though this is really my first time doing it. Oh well. Hopefully it won't disappoint y'all.**

 **THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, REVIEWED, FAVORITED AND FOLLOWED! It really means a lot when I know people are enjoying my work. I love reading all of your reviews.**

 **And so this marks the approximate half-way point of the story! Yaayyyy! And I managed to get this chapter out before the end of the month as I said I would. Wow...for once I did what I said I would do. I don't know how consistent I will be after this, due to the holidays and I also got a new medication...huzzah -.- But hopefully after this month I'll be able to fall into a steady schedule again.**

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm always appreciative of feedback. I will update as soon as I possibly can, you've all been faithful so I will return the favor. Until next time.**


	11. A Much Needed Update

**A Much Needed Update:**

I know it's irritating to think the story you've been following has a new chapter and then you face the disappointment of a boring note, but I only felt it fair to update my readers on the current situation, especially since it's been taking me so long to post a new chapter.

I'd like to thank Guest who reviewed Chapter 10 and address your concerns specifically, as I'm sure it mirrors all other reader's feelings.

I'm not giving up on this story. I will continue to write and finish it completely, I've already come a long way and I'm not letting that effort go to waste. I'm glad this story means something to you, just as it means something to me.

However, you may consider this and my other stories on hiatus. A lot of personal issues have arisen in my life, as well as extra stresses. I've had depression for a long time and was recently going through many different kinds of medications to help control it, all with poor results and preventing me from writing. And, unfortunately, a member of my family is in the process of passing away. It's proving to be a difficult time for me and my family so I don't feel motivated to write with these concerns on hand.

I hope you understand and will give me patience. Once I can manage the stress better, I'll be back to writing. But I wanted to assure everyone _I am not giving up_. Thank you so much for following this story, for all your thoughtful reviews, and, most of all, for your undying patience. It's appreciated.

Until the next update, dear readers.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI.**

"Alfred, these are for you."

Alfred blinked in surprise, looking up from the heavy book he had been studying. The boy had been leaning so close to the script his nose practically touched it, effectively burying his face into the pages. It hadn't been the first time he'd done this and it hadn't escaped Arthur's notice.

Arthur held the spectacles out to Alfred, warmth pooling in his stomach as a big smile spread across the other man's face in obvious delight.

"Arthur, this is..." Alfred trailed off as he accepted the glasses, cupping them in his large hands as if holding a baby bird.

"I merely noticed that you seemed to have trouble seeing distances," Arthur cut in quickly, folding his arms over his chest. He did his best to keep his tone casual, although there was a tenseness he couldn't control. "You also seemed to have headaches whenever reading too much. Of course, it's an inconvenience to everyone if you can't read so I had Dr. Carte make a pair for you."

Alfred untangled the thin wires before slipping the glasses onto his face, pushing the nose piece into a comfortable position. He grinned, showing all of his white teeth as he looked up at Arthur.

"How does it look?" he asked with childish excitement.

Butterfly wings fluttered in Arthur's stomach as he studied Alfred. Somehow the glasses matured the boy's face, even with that dumb smile breaking the image. The glint of the glass only seemed a reflection of the brightness of Alfred's eyes, eyes that looked ever so happily at him.

Arthur shook his head and cleared his throat, his hands tightening around his arms. "It doesn't matter how they look on you, what matters is if they work. Stop looking at me, idiot, and try them."

Thankfully Alfred took his instructions seriously and turned his head away, studying his surroundings through the lenses. Arthur felt his shoulders sag in relief. He had no idea why he felt so tense around Alfred recently, they had patched things up only a few months before. Alfred never seemed to notice this, however, and Arthur was left to ponder on the matter alone. But he preferred it that way.

"How are they?" Arthur finally asked.

"I can see much better now, everything is so clear," Alfred laughed a little, extending his hand as far as it could reach. After a moment of examining his own hand, he dropped his arm and turned back to Arthur with a smile. "Thank you for this. It's going to help a lot."

"Hm..." Arthur glanced away quickly. Damn that smile. "Are you ready for the coronation?"

This time it was Alfred's turn to falter. His smile faded only a little but the happy light in his eyes dimmed rapidly. Alfred looked at the book in his lap before closing it.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he said simply.

Arthur gently touched his shoulder. "Yao and I are here for you. You aren't alone."

Alfred nodded, looking back up to give Arthur a reassuring smile, but the Queen noticed how the boy's hands tightened on his book. During the months of his training, the to-be king had kept himself optimistic, much to the admiration and annoyance of all who beheld him. But Arthur knew better than anyone else how insecure the young man actually felt; that flash of uncertainty in his eyes, the falter in his smile, the impatient tapping of his foot. Those were signs that only Arthur could read and empathy flooded him each time he spotted them. He understood exactly how terrifying it was to fill such a large role. If anything, Alfred had an even greater distance to leap with his humble beginnings.

Arthur awkwardly pat his shoulder once before he walked away, suppressing a sigh.

* * *

The crown felt heavy with the weight of responsibility, it was difficult for most to keep their head up but Arthur stood straight with no trouble. He could feel hundreds of eyes on him, but his own sharp gaze was focused on the end of the room. Within moments those doors would open and the new King would emerge.

Yao shifted slightly as his side, a subtle movement but one Arthur didn't miss. It was uneasiness for Alfred.

Arthur suppressed a sigh. It was his own abilities he doubted; what if he hadn't taught Alfred enough? It was much too late to think of that now. For at that moment, he stood at the dais on which the throne of the king stood, waiting to crown his once servant and friend the supreme ruler of Spades.

The year was nearing its end, closer to the dawn of a new reign. Arthur found it appropriate that Alfred's coronation was on the Eve of the New Year. Fireworks were ready and waiting, the sun had already set. The entire kingdom held its breath as the precious moments ticked by, finally the people could have security in their new ruler.

Without warning, the great doors burst open and Arthur was torn from his thoughts. His eyes widened and his heart stopped as he beheld the sight.

Within the doorway stood a man. He was clothed in a simple but rich suit of deep blue, a heavy cape draped over his broad shoulders. The man stood tall, head raised above all with a fierce pride Arthur had never seen before. But the most striking feature of the man was his eyes, sky blue and intense, which glinted behind wire framed glasses. Those eyes swept across the room, taking in the sight of the banners and the people with an authoritative glance. Then he moved with the grace that a lion would possess, his step held a powerful stride that was softened by the ease of confidence. He walked slowly but it seemed only seconds before he stood at the base of the dais, looking up at Arthur with those captivating eyes.

Arthur shakily released the breath he didn't realized he had been holding. This wasn't the boy he had grown up with, this wasn't his servant, this wasn't the friend he had found companionship and comfort in. This was his king. This was Alfred.

Alfred knelt and bowed his head. Suddenly, a rush of emotion flooded through Arthur. The Queen felt out of place with this man at his feet, it was wrong. Nevertheless, Arthur pushed the feeling to the back of his throat and took up with the crown in his hands.

The circlet of gold was heavy, sapphires reflecting the flickering lights of torches. Each grove was prominent, majestic as the spires on the palace. Arthur had been afraid this crown would be too great for the former servant, and he had been right. But it was a perfect fit for the king. Arthur turned to face Alfred, and slowly placed the crown upon his head.

He could feel his breath leave him again as Alfred stood and climbed up the steps, sweeping his cape around as he turned to face his people. Cheers broke out in the room as Yao proclaimed him king, but a weight filled Arthur's stomach. Somehow, without his knowledge, the boy he had loved so dearly had been erased from existence. The Alfred he knew was no more.

To many, the magnificence of the man before them was a comfort. To Arthur, it was torture.

* * *

The celebration of the New Year and the coronation of the king lasted long into the night until not a single soul in the capital was sober. Arthur was probably the only one who didn't partake in much of the drinking and celebrating, the alcohol only tasted bitter to him.

Arthur had kept an eye on Alfred throughout the event, just to be sure that sneak of a Tarot Gilbert didn't pull a stunt like he had at Arthur's party. Amazingly enough, the albino never turned up. Arthur pondered on why that was, but wasn't given much time to continue that train of thought. His sharp green eyes snapped up as he heard a familiar laugh, instantly taking in the sight of a bold noblewoman pulling Alfred onto the dance floor. The young king's face was flushed from alcohol consumption, those blue eyes shone abnormally bright under the light of the crystals and fireworks. His smile was large and he laughed freely with the rich wrench, leading her with surprising smoothness in the dance despite his obvious tipsiness.

Bitterness churned Arthur's stomach and he scoffed softly to himself, looking away in disgust. The whole matter was childish, no decent person would behave in such a way. Brows furrowed, Arthur consoled himself in such thoughts, hand tightening on a still full chalice.

"Is His Highness not going to join the celebrations?" Yao asked shrewdly as he stepped beside his fellow ruler. The brunet man's cheeks were slightly pink but his eyes sparked of full awareness.

Arthur felt a growl rise in the back of his throat but he pushed it down, flashing the Jack a glare. "What do you mean? I'm here, aren't I?"

Yao chuckled, as if he had heard a joke only he understood. Then he turned his attention to the dance floor and nodded at the openly flirtatious display. "You've taught him well, he's the very image royalty. And he hasn't fallen on top of the lady as of yet," Yao turned his brown eyes back to Arthur in mirth.

"I hope he does," Arthur snapped bitterly. "It will show everyone how much of a fool he is."

With that, Arthur thrust the chalice in Yao's hands and spun to make his retreat. He had never felt so furious in his entire life and he himself wasn't sure exactly why. It wasn't for any reason Arthur was willing to admit, not even to himself. Chest constricting, the Queen felt his eyes begin to burn in vehement emotion.

"Arthur!"

Against his own will, his pace slowed to a stop, footsteps on the marble floor approached him from behind rapidly through the throng of nobles. Arthur took a deep breath, blinking rapidly to hide the heat in his eyes before turning to face the one who hailed him. The one person he didn't want to see was the one person he had to obey. Alfred came to a stop before him with an oblivious smile on his face.

Arthur was about to snap an excuse about why he was leaving but he was quickly cut off as Alfred raised his hand. The Queen blinked in confusion, fury temporarily tamed. His King smiled gently, lips curved with a kind gentleness.

"Dance with me."

A command. A simple command that Arthur couldn't ignore. He took a deep breath before surrendering his hand into Alfred's. The King's fingers closed around his, firmly, but with no more force than necessary, and led him onto the wide floor just as the music changed.

Throughout most of the night, the songs that were played were anthems or cheerful tunes. Both Yao and Arthur had agreed beforehand that it was appropriate for the festivities as well as ironically matching the King's personality. Now Arthur couldn't stand the annoying screech of the violin. But, by some strange coincidence, Alfred had picked that exact moment to dance with him as one of the few slower pieces was played.

Alfred cupped Arthur's slender hand in his own, placing the other on the Queen's waist. He smiled gently at Arthur, eyes that should have been clouded from drinking were strangely focused. Arthur felt the pressure on his chest intensify as he was swept through the motions. Before, Alfred had been dancing with somewhat methodicalness. Not that Arthur had been paying close attention to his steps. But now, Alfred seemed to move as if he has been born dancing, the very essence of his body language exuded a freedom that hadn't been there before.

Arthur felt a chill run down his spine as they glided to the sound of music, spinning and stepping in perfect unison. With just a gently flick of Alfred's wrist, Arthur was lead through a complex spin, feeling as though he could lose himself in the dance. Just as he felt loneliness and despair crash down upon him, Alfred was there, catching Arthur in his strong arms. The waves of emotion from earlier descended on Arthur, but far more gradually. Green eyes were fixed stubbornly on Alfred's neck, Arthur could feel his own lips begin to tremble.

Somehow, as Alfred guided him in a sweeping motion, his resolution to not make any eye contact was broken within a moment. Sky blue captured his attention, clear and intense, warmth emitting from the soul trapped behind those glasses. And yet, Arthur could see something far greater in Alfred's gaze. It was vast and strong, yet when all that roiling power was focused on Arthur it turned so sweet and unbearably soft. Arthur stared, completely lost in the King's gaze.

Without warning, his throat convulsed and he made a strangled noise. Arthur ripped himself from Alfred's arms, his eyes widening as a single thought tore through his mind. Alfred stopped short, his smile fading as concern flickered on his face, his hands hovering in the air, still extended.

"Arthur?" Alfred spoke softly, as if he were talking to a wild animal.

Heartbeat thundering in his ears, Arthur spun and fled the dance floor, blindly pushing through the crowd of people. The fireworks flashing overhead sounded muffled and distant, everything in his sight turned blurry and abstract. Arthur could only run through the palace, racing through the halls until he at last reach the sanctuary of his quarters. Slamming the doors shut behind him, he didn't hold back from flinging himself bodily onto his bed, broken sobs finally bursting from his mouth.

Arthur couldn't take it any longer. He had known, deep within his heart, for a long time that he was attracted to Alfred. Perhaps the interest had sprung from his transition into manhood, maybe even the fondness grew earlier from their childhood. But he had always been afraid to show it, he always denied himself the thought that someone would actually return his affections rather than discard them. Arthur choked on his own tears miserably, curling into himself. He was a fool. He had fallen in love with Alfred, that dear boy who lived so simply and humbly, that boy who always smiled with such innocent contentedness. Now, because of his own fear, Arthur had waited too long and the person he had once known had completely drifted away. And he had no one to blame for that but himself.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **My shortest chapter thus far. Normally this would be unacceptable to myself, but considering the circumstances that I have revealed from my update, I think I can give myself some slack. Speaking of which, thank you very much to those who responded with your sympathy. It was a relief to hear and a definite comfort that allowed me the time I needed before returning to writing. I'm doing a little better now, obviously, and I hope this is the start of more regular updates.**

 **On the brighter sides of the things: I think I'm getting a hang of this romance thing. Maybe. You'll let me know how I'm doing, right? ;) Okay, okay I know I used the dance cliche _again_. But hey, at least a real confession came out of it! Progress! (Progress is ripping poor Arthur's heart to shreds, apparently.) The next chapter is definitely going to be longer and is definitely going to be drowning in romance.**

 **And...finally...King Alfred. I know a bunch of you are going to be happy about that. xD**

 **On a smaller, less important note: I'm considering changing the description for the story now that I have the plot fleshed out. When I wrote it, I had no idea where the story was going, but now that I do I feel it's appropriate to change it. So don't freak out when that happens, it's the same story. XD**

 **THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR FOLLOWING, FOR FAVORITING (I know it's not a word), FOR REVIEWING AND FOR READING. It means so much to me knowing people are reading, and it makes me really happy to know that people feel the same way vise versa.**

 **I hope you're looking forward to the next chapter as much as I am. Until next time!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter XII.**

Arthur's frosty attitude hadn't gone unnoticed, especially since avoiding the King was becoming particularly difficult. The nobles that formed the government shifted uncomfortably whenever there was a meeting, which was completely unusual for them. Often Arthur caught Yao rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, as if begging heaven for the knowledge as to why he was dealing with children. But what was most infuriating of all about the whole situation was the King himself.

Whenever Arthur dropped a particularly mean comment or hint to his hostility, Alfred didn't retaliate. The man, for he was no longer a boy, would listen silently and attentively to what the Queen had to say. Sometimes he would answer calmly and reasonably, other times he didn't say anything. But every single time Arthur brought up an offense that would've made the most humble man spitting in rage, Alfred's intense eyes bore into him. Arthur hated it.

After a particularly trying meeting, Yao stood up abruptly and began to walk out of the large room. "If I may, I'd like to have a word with Arthur and Alfred."

The King and the Queen glanced at each other, curious and cautious before following the Jack. No one else could have addressed them so inappropriately. Arthur fought back a tired sigh as they walked down the halls silently toward Yao's office. He just knew the Jack was going to scold him for his behavior and he felt too fatigued to deal with it. He wasn't a child anymore. Neither was Alfred, his throbbing heart reminded him.

Once they all stepped into the office, Yao closed the door and stood in front of his desk, gesturing for both to make themselves comfortable. Alfred sat in a padded armchair, but Arthur drew closer to the small mantle and remained standing.

The Jack seemed only too content with drawing out their discomfort. The brunet man turned to his desk and took a small teapot, pouring dark liquid into small cups with no handles. After preparing the tea, he handed Alfred a cup first before crossing the room to Arthur. Over Yao's shoulder Arthur could see Alfred sip the tea before pulling a disgusted face. It almost made him chuckle, he could feel his lip twitch involuntarily at the sight.

Yao raised an eyebrow at him as he handed his Queen the teacup, bringing Arthur back to his senses. He could feel his foul mood descend upon him again and he accepted the cup without a word.

Once Yao returned to his desk, pouring himself his own cup of tea, he finally broke the awkward silence. "Now that you've been crowned king," he said to Alfred, "there are delicate matters that we need to inform you of. The Queen and I have been in council over these things in secret for a long time now."

Arthur looked up in surprise, his certainty that they were going to be scolded left him unprepared for this conversation. Yao didn't look at him, occupied with taking a sip of his tea. Alfred raised an eyebrow, but otherwise he gave no indication that he was as surprised as Arthur was. It was unsettling how suddenly guarded Alfred seemed to be over his emotions.

Yao set his cup on the desk, still addressing Alfred. "I'm sure you clearly remember the night that Arthur was almost assassinated."

"How could I forget?" Alfred spoke up for the first time, a hint of mirth in his tone.

Arthur quickly looked down at his tea.

Yao smiled a little. "The only clue we had of the assassin's identity was his weapon, there were carvings on the blade. Arthur and I traced them to the runes used by the Tarots."

There was a short pause, Yao studying Alfred's face for a reaction. But the King grew guarded once again and gave no response. The Jack glanced across the room at Arthur, who stood stoically silent throughout, persistently looking anywhere but at Alfred.

"There was another link that lead us to the Tarots," Yao continued. "On the night of Arthur's coronation he was visited by an abnormal stranger, a being known as Gilbert. The Tarot monks believe he was once a god for the people of old."

The Jack turned back to his desk before showing Alfred a page. Arthur realized it was a copy of the same page from the book they had found with the drawing of Gilbert's likeness on it. Arthur suddenly realized what Yao intended to do, he was trying to see if Alfred recognized him. His eyes darted to Alfred's face instantly, both the rulers watching the blond man intently.

Alfred leaned forward a little, his large hands enveloping the small cup in his hands as he studied the picture. His face didn't move a single inch, the glint of his glasses occasionally hiding his eyes. Finally, he looked up, glancing first at Arthur and then Yao.

"What does this mean?" he asked simply.

"It means someone is awakening the powers of old and, going by the attack made upon the Queen, it is with malicious intent," Yao returned the page to his desk. If he was disappointed by the lack of reaction, he didn't show it.

Alfred slowly sat back in his chair, his thumb idly tracing the rim of the teacup. He was quiet for a moment.

"Gilbert came to me the night before my coronation," he finally said slowly.

Both Arthur and Yao remained still, as if afraid any motion would keep the King from talking. Alfred looked at each of them in turn, his lip curling slightly as if he knew something they didn't. Arthur was tempted to smack the look off his face.

"He came and he talked to me," Alfred repeated, "Gilbert means no harm."

"How do you know that?" Yao snapped, making clear how impatient he was for answers.

"He told me," Alfred smiled fully now as he stood up, placing the cup on the desk.

"And you believe him?" Arthur asked incredulously.

Blue eyes pierced his skin, as if contemplating why it was Arthur finally spoke now. Then they looked away. "Yes."

"Why?" Arthur felt blood rush to his head. This new attitude of Alfred's was pissing him off.

"Because he told me about my mother."

Yao cast a confused glance between the King and the Queen. "Why would that gain your trust so quickly?"

"He could've been lying, Alfred, you were an orphan," Arthur ignored Yao's question.

The green eyed man could see the muscles in Alfred's jaw tense and then relax, slowly and deliberately. Regret flooded him for his careless comment, but the Queen didn't back down. Despite his insensitivity he was right. Anyone could easily come up with a story for a poor orphan boy, someone who would be all the more willing to believe a falsehood even if they knew it wasn't true.

"He wasn't lying," Alfred said softly. He walked to the window opposite Arthur and leaned against it, crossing his arms. "Whoever is awakening these forces, they began their mission long ago. Even before I was born."

Yao waved a hand, clearly frustrated. "Back up and go to the beginning. How the hell does your mother hold relevance over your trust in Gilbert?"

Alfred smiled again as if in twisted amusement. "She's very important to the whole thing. My mother was the previous Queen of Spades."

Arthur could feel his eyes widen in disbelief, Yao's jaw dropped open. They were both silent before the Jack sputtered, this being the first time Arthur had seen him drop his dignified composure.

"She disappeared over twenty years ago!" Yao protested. "The King had known she died ten months after she went missing! No one knows what had happened to her."

"Apparently she was giving birth to me and my twin during that time. She left the palace in an attempt to protect us," Alfred answered calmly.

"Why?" Arthur asked.

Alfred shrugged a little. "Gilbert didn't go into detail. She made no record of her fears or any reason as to why she ran. But he told me that she must've known something about the threat, otherwise she wouldn't have done what she did. She died about a month after our birth and we were taken into the care of the orphanage."

"That's a strong claim," Yao said, recovering from his initial shock. "What proof is there to back up the claim?"

Alfred's arm visibly twitched, a motion neither of the other two rulers missed. They didn't have long to ponder on it. "By tradition, the rulers of the Kingdom of Spades has to immerse themselves in the sacred pool to reveal their mark. But there is one person whose mark is revealed at their birth."

"A royal birth," Yao finished.

Alfred nodded. "When I was little, the caretaker of the orphanage...abused us. One day he targeted me out and he pulled off my shirt. He had seen something and gave me this scar for it." Both Yao and Arthur knew what he had meant by 'this scar', especially as the King's hand moved over his chest.

Arthur winced and glanced away, recalling exactly how the scar looked.

"So if this is true..." Yao began to pace the room, his hands pressed together in front of him as if he were praying. "If this is true, then whoever saw your mark made that scar on your chest to hide it."

Alfred nodded again. "He didn't want my identity known, for whatever reason."

Yao turned and closed his eyes, shoulders sagging as he sighed heavily. "This is troubling," he murmured.

After a silent minute he opened his eyes again and stepped behind his desk. Alfred and Arthur exchanged a glance before they moved in unison toward the door. They both knew the Jack well enough to know that he had dismissed them, preferring the privacy of his own reflections than continuing their interview. Arthur made sure to leave the cup of tea behind, feeling a little flustered that he forget he even had it.

Once the door was shut behind them, Arthur glanced at Alfred. There were so many questions on his mind, questions that begged to burst from his mouth. The very idea that Alfred had been born royalty was almost unthinkable. But the young Queen stifled his thoughts and turned away. This only proved Alfred would never be the same.

Without warning his motion was halted, a large hand gripping his wrist tightly. Arthur tensed.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Alfred asked softly.

"Nothing's wrong, what made you think that?"

Alfred sighed impatiently. "I thought we made up. I thought we were friends again. But ever since my coronation you haven't been treating me the same."

"It's because you aren't the same," Arthur finally turned and raised his eyes to meet those blue orbs. "You're the King, we should maintain professional relations as rulers."

Alfred scowled, his eyebrows lowering as his brow creased. "Bullshit."

Arthur blinked in shock. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing between us changed when you became Queen, so why should things change when I become King?" Alfred demanded, his grip tightening. "I know something is wrong, Arthur. You're upset and you won't tell me why."

"I am not upset!" Arthur shouted, writhing as he struggled to pull his arm from the King's grasp.

"Arthur," a large callused hand brushed his cheek with such gentleness it stilled Arthur, matching the soft tones of Alfred's voice.

Green met blue, Arthur's eyes wide and fearful. He could feel his heart beat louder and faster, he was afraid it would burst through his rib bones. But Alfred was different; an emotion was written on his features, it spoke through his touch. His fingers brushed a few rebellious strands of hair behind Arthur's ear, almost as if he were touching a lover.

Arthur could feel the beginning of a whimper build up in the back of his throat, he was trapped in Alfred's gaze.

"Tell me what's wrong," Alfred said.

Lips quivering, Arthur stared up at his King. "Y-you're so different. I don't know how this happened so fast, but you're different."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"N-no, I suppose not, but...I feel like I don't know you," Arthur looked down as he spoke, unable to stand the interrogation. Unable to stand those eyes.

"I'm still the same," Alfred smiled a little in assurance, his hand cupping Arthur's face.

Arthur flinched and turned his head away. "No, you're not! You've changed and you're going to keep changing! You'll be a good king and most likely a good man. But the weight of the kingdom will burden you until you're old and grim, and the only happiness you'll have will be some elfish wife who'll birth your hundreds of fat children! And I'll always be by your side, watching you change and grow further away from me!"

The realization of what he had said didn't sink in fully until the long seconds after it all tumbled from his lips. Arthur felt a tingle of horror, who knows what Alfred would do. The King was more than free to punish the Queen if he felt the need to. The silence drew out a little longer and Arthur tensed, awaiting his dreaded sentence.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a chuckle. Arthur raised his eyes in shock. Alfred began to laugh, retracting his hand to brush an invisible tear from his eye and adjust his glasses.

"You're worried I'm going to get married?" Alfred asked, his amusement breaking his sentence.

Heat rose to Arthur's face in shame. "It's not funny, git!"

"No, I'm sorry, you're right," the taller blond finally stopped laughing, but the smile was still there. "Marriage is a very serious matter."

Arthur finally yanked his arm away from Alfred, huffing as he stepped away. He felt stung, Alfred had laughed at him like his brothers used to.

"I guess you're right though," Alfred said slowly, causing Arthur to freeze. The other man watched him carefully before shrugging a little. "I've been thinking about marrying lately, and I know who I'd like my partner to be."

A thousand unheard cries erupted from Arthur's heart at this. His biggest fear was becoming a reality. Alfred had found an attractive damsel, he would spend his time with her and laugh with her. And he would leave Arthur to drown in a sea of loneliness. Alfred had lied, he was no different than everyone else after all.

"Oh?" Arthur heard himself say dimly, air rushing back into his lungs in a small gasp.

Alfred nodded, taking Arthur's wrist again. "I have something to show you."

The King turned and immediately began to tug Arthur behind him. Arthur stumbled numbly before following, slowly processing what was happening. Oh god, he was going to be introduced to her wasn't he?

"Please, Alfred, not now," Arthur begged, attempting to pull back.

Alfred didn't let go. "Now's the perfect time."

Once again, the torrent of emotions built up in the back of Arthur's throat, threatening to break forth. But this time he didn't have the strength to fight it, he was broken beyond repair. No one would ever love him the way he longed to be loved.

Alfred finally slowed his pace, glanced up and down the corridor before suddenly moving to a nearby window. He fumbled with the latch before throwing it wide open, letting the cool evening air pool in. Arthur shivered, about to ask what on earth the other man was doing, but Alfred climbed onto the sill with ease, turning around with a grin.

"Follow me," he said and then jumped out the window.

"Alfred!" Arthur yelped, surging forward.

As the Queen leaned out the window, his heart beating frantically in panic, a resounding laugh burst just underneath him. Confused, Arthur looked down to find Alfred perfectly safe on a wide ledge. The bespectacled blond grinned and raised his arms, signaling he'd catch Arthur.

Arthur briefly considered leaned back and locking the window shut on him. He wasn't in the mood to play his games. But, for a reason unknown to himself, he climbing clumsily onto the ledge and inched forward. Pushing the window shut behind him, he dangled his legs over the edge before sliding off. There was only a momentary rush before Alfred's arms enveloped him, warm and strong. Arthur secretly savored being held, knowing he may never get another chance to feel his embrace.

Once Alfred set him lightly down on his feet, Arthur glanced around and was able to see clearly what it was they stood on. It was a wide path, with stairs etched into the roof of the rising spire beside them.

Taking his hand again, Alfred led him along the stairs. Together they climbed up, higher and higher, along the walls and over the roofs, meandering in forests of majestic statues. Arthur only dared one glance to the open air beside him and shivered, quickly focusing his eyes on Alfred's broad shoulders. The height made him feel dizzy. They trekked for a long time, going higher still until Arthur was convinced their heads would brush the ceiling of the sky within moments.

At last, Alfred stopped on the wide opening of an abnormal balcony, a line of statues serving as a railing.

"Take a look," Alfred grinned, nodding Arthur forward.

The green eyed man took a shaky breath before stepping forward, feeling his legs shake from exertion and nervousness. But all fear was forgotten the moment he looked out over the view.

They had climbed almost above the entire palace, the castle sprawling directly below, the wide grounds and gardens nestled at the bottom. Beyond the castle wall, Arthur could clearly see the details of the city beyond, all the domes and towers as well as the houses. The sky was vast and large, bathing the city below in colors of vibrant red and purple as the sun sank to rest. There weren't enough words to describe the awing beauty of the sight. It didn't feel real, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if he was dreaming.

Then Alfred brushed his side, those large hands enveloping his own. Arthur looked up in surprise at the other man, his heart fluttering at the smile on the King's face.

"I decided, just before my coronation, that I would ask you..." Alfred began, looking directly into Arthur's soul with such tender love it burned. "I've always cared for you, I promised myself I would do anything to make sure you would be okay. But, I found that's not enough. It's not enough for either of us, and I know it."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat, he tried to speak but he couldn't even move.

"I want to marry, Arthur. I want to have someone by my side, someone I can love and care for. I want someone who can help me carry these burdens. I don't want to grow old alone and miserable," Alfred's eyes seemed to flash brilliantly in the sunset. "I love you, Arthur. I want to marry _you_."

Arthur's hands trembled, his sight blurred as tears slowly rolled down his cheeks. He could barely see the flicker of concern on Alfred's face, but he knew it was there when he felt those sweet hands brush the tears away.

"You git," he gasped helplessly.

Alfred wrapped his arms around him and Arthur gratefully buried his face in the taller man's chest. He did his best to suppress his sobs, but he couldn't help it. For once he wasn't crying because he was miserable and lonely.

Arthur wiggled in Alfred grip, suddenly straightening up to plant a kiss on Alfred's lips. He could feel his love tense in surprise before melting into the contact. They kissed deeply with violent feeling, lips trembling. Finally, Arthur pulled back for breath, chest heaving as he looked up at Alfred.

"I love you too, you prat. I'll marry you."

Alfred laughed happily and kissed Arthur sweetly.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **It's only been a week since my last update, dat ain't too bad for me if I do say so myself. I hope y'all enjoyed the plot bombs :)**

 **THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR READING, FAVORITNG, FOLLOWING AND REVIEWING! I was stunned when I realized this story reached 112 followers. That is...crazy unbelievable. Woah. Thank you so much for that. XD And special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: all of you made me smile.**

 **On reading back briefly through the previous chapters (just so see how far I've come-it's been about 6 months since I started this fic!) I winced when I realized I made Arthur a bit of a crybaby. XD Don't worry, this is probably the last time he'll have a Disney princess moment. Probably.**

 **Thank you again so much for reading! Until the next update. *salutes***


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII.**

The carriage rattled over the dirt path, winding higher into the forest mountain trail. Arthur nervously adjusted his collar and cuffs, looking out the window at the fresh abundance of green. Winter had melted away into spring, the new year was entering a brighter season with an even brighter future than before. A soft smile graced his lips at the thought. Yes, the future was very bright indeed. Today was his wedding day.

The Queen of Spades sat alone in the compartment, posture upright and tense with excitement. It had taken months of planning after the shock wore off. No one had predicted the marriage of the King and Queen, if anything most expected them to distance themselves from each other as much as possible. But it was not to be, and the unity greatly pleased the general public. Although the tradition of matrimony wasn't enforced, there was often judgment when a ruler strayed from expectation.

Arthur idly pulled at his sleeves, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. He was dressed in a coat of deep burgundy, the cuffs, the collar, and a fold in the front colored a complimentary black. Detailed around the hems of black was fine gold embroidery. He wore white trousers with tall black boots, as well as a long cape that was draped over his shoulders. The colors were unusual for a wedding, but Alfred had insisted he wear red.

" _You git! Get out!" Arthur snapped as he threw a roll of measuring tape at Alfred._

 _The King ducked behind the door, safely avoiding the missile, before pocking his head around it again, a wide grin on his face. "You look beautiful."_

" _You're not supposed to see me like this before the ceremony," Arthur huffed, pretending to be more upset than he actually was._

 _He stood in the middle of the fitting room, the suit of red not nearly finished, white dotted lines covering the unfinished material, pins sticking out every which way. Arthur wouldn't have noticed Alfred sneaking a glimpse of him if the mirror hadn't betrayed his presence._

 _Alfred just laughed. "I knew red was a good color for you."_

" _I don't know why you're so adamant about it," Arthur said._

" _Remember that party your father hosted just after you turned sixteen?" Alfred suddenly grew serious, leaning against the door frame. "You had a growth spurt and your mother had to get a tailor to make you more clothes. Your new suit was red. That was the first time I noticed how handsome you really were."_

Arthur felt warmth seep in his chest at the recent memory, smiling happily. Never before had something so good happened to him, he would finally be with someone he truly loved and who loved him back. That was all that mattered to him.

Head overflowing with fond memories, the journey felt shorter and all too soon Arthur was being handed out of the carriage and ushered along hurriedly. He barely had a moment to take in the site of the decided location. Cropped into the landscape of the wood surrounding them was a ruin, stone pillars standing like trees and wrapped in nature's decorations of vines and flowers. It used to be where the old palace was located, but it was small and remote from the kingdom and thus a better functioning palace had been built long ago, leaving this place to decay. But Arthur had hardly seen a more beautiful sight.

His escorts led him into the tangle of the ruins, which had been cleaned of any loose debris. Within moments, Arthur waited in a lone circular room of stone as one by one people came to witness the royal wedding. Pressing his hands against his throbbing chest, the Queen could only wait in anticipation for the moment to arrive.

For a moment, he could only hear the sound of life in the forest, birds chirping as they flitted through the trees along with the occasional scuffle of a small rodent under the leaves on the ground. Then there was music. The sound was humble as a string was stuck, reverberating through the air gently but serenely. Arthur took a deep breath, straightened his back and made his way out of the room. Through the pillars he caught a glimpse of the audience, which was a small procession. Both Arthur and Alfred had agreed to keep the ceremony private, although celebrations would be taking place all over the kingdom upon their return. Arthur's eyes grazed those of his family before he abruptly turned and ascending worn stone steps to a raised dais, presumably where the thrones once stood. But he forgot how to breathe when he saw his groom.

Alfred was clothed in ceremonial garb of deep chocolate brown and tan robes, hugging his broad chest and shoulders and trimmed down his waist in perfect alignment with his body. The dark cape hanging off his shoulders trailed freely behind him as he walked easily. A simple crown was adorned with wildflowers, obviously a last minute touch that his appearance all the more endearing. His blue eyes sparked with clear happiness and his smile was large.

The two lovers finished their march as they stood atop the platform before each other, staring in wonder. Arthur barely knew anything else at that point, he could feel himself smile as Alfred took his hand. He could vaguely hear Yao join them and begin the traditional ceremony. He couldn't feel the piercing stares from his family or any of those from the audience. His senses only had room for Alfred, he was overwhelmed with the softness of his touch on his hand, the smell of something sweet but mild surrounding him, the brightness of his expression commanding his eyes. In that moment, there was nothing more important to him than Alfred and he knew it would remain that way to his dying day.

"Your Highnesses, if you would take your vows," Yao proclaimed, stepping back.

Alfred swallowed tightly, the first sign of nervousness he had shown. Arthur smiled encouragingly and squeezed his lover's hand. That seemed to be enough to steady the taller blond, because he smiled back and took the Queen's other hand. "Arthur, I promise to stay loyal. I will always be by your side, in the dark days and through the light. I promise to protect you and to cherish you because I know how priceless you are. From this day forward I will be yours and you will be mine. I love you, Arthur."

He could feel his heart expand with every word and how lovingly it was spoken. The sincerity and earnestness in Alfred's tone made him want to weep like a child but he kept himself composed, clearing his throat to begin his own chosen vow.

"Whenever I needed you the most you were there, you had always done everything in my best interest. I vow to dedicate my life to returning the favor. I care about you deeper and father than the ocean could ever reach. I offer you my eternal devotion and love so I can spend the rest of my life with you."

Alfred's smile grew and the taller man squeezed his hand.

Yao stepped closer again and presented to each of them a ring with a colored ribbon tied to them. The rings were the exact same in all but size, gold with an intricate design etched onto its surface. Alfred took the smaller one with the green ribbon attached to it, and slid it on Arthur's right hand. The young queen took the second ring, a sky blue ribbon on this one, and put it on Alfred's left hand.

Emerald eyes lifted and met blue, then, unbidden, they each leaned forward and kissed. It was tender and gentle, but Arthur could taste the profound love on those lips. Now he felt complete, all loneliness seeped out of his body, every dark thought was driven away just by Alfred's presence before him, his lips kissing away the sadness.

Alfred pulled away first, slowly and clearly reluctant. But Arthur didn't mind, he now had all the time in the world to kiss and be kissed whenever his heart desired.

Yao coughed in slight irritation. That had not been planned. He placed his hands on their shoulders and turned them toward their audience below. Arthur felt heat rise to his cheeks, he had forgotten all about them, but he stubbornly kept his eyes straight forward. Then Alfred's fingers were intertwined with his and he relaxed again. Yao took the two ribbons and began the ancient ceremonial chant while he wove them around their hands, binding them together in permanent matrimony. Alfred was his and he Alfred's.

The Jack finally tied the last knot and raised his voice, so that the old stone echoed his proclamation, "By the power of Spades, I dub thee wed!"

Flower petals exploded in the air like fireworks, the wind carrying them through the ruins and trees, through the crowd below. And Arthur smiled like he never had before, clinging to his husband's hand as he lost himself in their happiness.

–

The festivities were long and tedious, making Arthur irritated and impatient. He didn't care for the well-wishes and the feasts. He would have been content without the dances and the loud ruckus that people caused. And he certainly wish he didn't have to endure the tense awkwardness of greeting his family, whom he hadn't spoken to since he had left the mansion. It was clearly a surprise to all of them that the outcast son and their former orphaned servant should be King and Queen, let alone the two being married before their eyes. So Arthur was very happy when Alfred finally pulled him away and back into the security of the palace for privacy.

Their hands were still clasped underneath the binding of the ribbons, it was tradition they remained that way until the end of the day. Untying it or breaking the ribbons before midnight was interpreted as bad luck on the marriage, but Arthur didn't give a damn about superstition. It kept him closer to Alfred and that was all he cared about.

The halls were silent and dark, the sun had long since set, but Alfred walked briskly with purpose. It was only when he turned down a hall that Arthur had never been in before that his curiosity sparked.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"You'll see." There was a grin in Alfred's voice.

Arthur grew quiet and simply followed, knowing that all would be revealed in due time.

The hall finally reached its end with large double doors. Alfred opened one without hesitation and pulled him inside. Arthur looked around the spacious compartments admiringly. The sitting room was filled with comfortable looking overstuffed chairs and shelves filled with books. He jolted in surprise as he read the titles of a few of his favorites. Eyes widening, he began to explore the area, pulling a helpless Alfred after him. The two bathrooms were absolutely ridiculous, each tub could easily fit five people comfortably. There were also two separate studies, complete with large desks and cozy fireplaces. Then Arthur ran across the apartments and threw open the last door. It was a bedroom with one large bed.

Confused, he turned toward Alfred. "What is all of this?"

Alfred laughed. "It's our room."

"Our..." Arthur felt dizzy from the overwhelming emotions flooding him. He was thankful he could use Alfred's support next to him, otherwise he would've had to look for a chair before his legs gave out.

Alfred shifted beside him, moving slowly as he stepped further into the room, guiding Arthur inside. His smile was softened but those blue eyes were alight with excitement.

Arthur felt something in him snap. Fed up with keeping his composure, he tore their ribbons apart before grabbing Alfred's collar with furious energy and pulled him close, their lips meeting passionately. He could feel those large hands stable themselves on his hips, Arthur wound his arms around Alfred's neck. He wanted to be close.

He wasn't sure how they ended up falling on the bed in a tangle of limbs, tongues in their open mouths, legs wrapping around each other. Arthur accidentally kneed Alfred a little too hard when he fell on top of him, but the taller blond didn't make a fuss other than a low groan. Then cold air hit Arthur's chest and Alfred's warm hands were touching him. Pushing off his jacket and shirt clumsily, brushing over his chest and slender shoulders, feeling the agile muscles of his body. Arthur returned the favor and began undressing his husband, his own fingers tracing lovingly over the large scares across the King's chest. At first, Alfred twitched with discomfort at the contact, but he managed to soothe him with loving kisses and gentle caresses.

They paused to kiss more and explore the others' body with their hands, shivering in excitement at the contact of skin on skin. Finally, Alfred's hands brushed across his Queen's stomach and continued lower, working to undo the stubborn buttons of his trousers. Arthur kissed him encouragingly, pressing himself fully against Alfred's chest for warmth, when there was a sudden pause. He pushed himself back, about to ask his beloved what was wrong but he stopped short when he followed Alfred's eyes to his hip. Deep purple blue ink darkened his hip, the Queen's crest was startling bold against Arthur's pale skin. He blushed.

Alfred seemed fascinated, cautiously brushing the tattoo with his fingertips before pulling his hand away, like a frightening animal. He did this several times before keeping his hand there to stroke it. Then, without a word of warning, he flipped them so that Arthur's back was pressed to the mattress and he was the one hovering over him. The green eyed man was about to speak, but all thought fled him as Alfred's lips came into contact with his hip. He gasped softly, making the King smile.

"I'm so happy this belongs to you," he murmured, kissing the mark over and over. "I'm so happy you're mine."

Arthur let his head fall back against the mattress, his fingers mindlessly carding through wheat colored locks as he keened lowly. Each kiss awakened a deep desire in him, warmth pooled in the pit of his stomach and he squirmed in growing need. But Alfred wouldn't be rushed and took his time to administer his undivided attention to that one spot.

Finally, Alfred sat up and leaned over him, his face flushed with happiness and his eyes burning with love. Arthur wrapped his arms and legs securely around him, and they kissed again.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **haaaiiii. I'm alive-ish. I'm sorry it took me over a month to update. But I'm going to be bringing this fanfic to a close as soon as possible so hopefully updates will be much quicker.**

 **THANK YOU READERS FOR YOUR FOLLOWS, FOR FAVORITING, FOR YOUR AWESOME REVIEWS AND YOUR PATIENCE! I'm serious, without you I wouldn't be motivated to finish what I started. It means a lot.**

 **Also, I'm going to address a review by _shivangishetty_ from the last chapter: There is a very good and simple reason as to why no one had approached Arthur because of his attractiveness-because he is, undeniably, a mighty fine lookin' man-and the reason is timing. During the time set, it was difficult for Arthur to get into connection with people who would approach him with those intentions, and for Alfred to see those interactions. It may feel unbalanced but Alfred being jealous wasn't key to continuing the plot of the story (and I was focused on multiple other things). However, if you ask _nicely_ I can write a one shot of this same universe where Alfred does get jealous of Arthur's flirtatious interactions when they were younger (which is referenced in the beginning of this chapter).**

 **I know this chapter is a little short, but I'm really hoping to get more chapters out very, very soon. I also hope you enjoyed this chapter! Until next time.**


	15. Chapter 14

_Warning: violence and abrupt endings_

* * *

 **Chapter XIV.**

All he could do was follow behind Alfred's steed and helplessly wonder when this nightmare would end. Several months had passed since their union in marriage and in that short time Alfred had changed drastically, growing into man every bit worthy of royalty until there was no trace of that dear servant boy left. Even so, Arthur loved him. It had been suspicious how well the King could all of his affairs well and yet fail to keep on good terms with the Club Kingdom. However, he had no inkling the reason could've been the corruption of dark magic.

" _Alfred, what's wrong with you?"_

" _Me? There's nothing wrong with me!" Alfred shouted. It wasn't often he raised his voice in anger, but Arthur was quickly learning how frightening the experience could be. "What I need most from both of you is support and instead I'm getting the opposite!"_

" _Because you are provoking an entire kingdom for no reason!" Yao snapped, his armed crossed over his chest._

" _The Clubs have been violating our borders for years and King Ivan has done nothing about it. Are we supposed to let that go unchallenged?!"_

" _No, but war is not worth the price of going this far!"_

 _Arthur rubbed his temples, feeling a headache throb behind his eyes. "What do you have against King Ivan anyway?"_

" _He pisses me off," Alfred said petulantly._

" _Do you even hear yourself?" Arthur shook his head, aghast. "You're willing to wage war and risk your citizens lives because someone is making you upset?!"_

" _Things are worse than I thought."_

 _At the unfamiliar voice, the three rulers spun from their heated argument. Seated on Yao's desk was the albino Tarot, Gilbert, looking just as he had on the night of Arthur's coronation. His expression, however, was far from arrogant but was instead grim as death. Regardless, Arthur had to resist the urge to punch him for all his mischievous melding._

" _What are you doing here?" he asked hotly._

" _I have urgent news, and you're the three it will effect the most. At first anyway," the albino slid off the desk and straightened up. "As you are all aware, long before you were rulers someone has been trying to take down the Spades monarchy and awaken the older powers of the Tarot Kingdom, which was destroyed long ago. I am one of the last surviving of that kingdom and my service is now to the current kingdoms of the world, as well as future ones, to guard and protect them from the old forces. I've done all I could, but now I see how serious the threat is this time. I know who has tried to assassinate the Queen, I know who is still after your throne."_

" _Who?" Yao demanded._

" _It's a long story, but I'll keep it short," Gilbert put his hands on his hips as he stared the three down. "One of the Tarot Kings was power hungry and began to practice black magic to achieve his ends. It corrupted him, but it made him very powerful. Tarot warriors managed to place a spell on him to keep him dormant and placed a guard over it so that it couldn't be broken. He was replaced with a good king and so the kingdom progressed. However, at the fall of the Tarot Kingdom, the spell began to weaken and the corrupted Tarot King broke free. He was stripped of most of his powers when first sealed away, but he has been waiting to gain them back overtime. The best way he can do that is by murdering all the rulers throughout all the kingdoms in the world, starting with the Spades since this land was once the heart of Tarot country. He has made attempts to keep you each from rising to power, and once in power to try and kill you. As I now can see, he's now trying to be subtler by influencing a war to break out between the Spades and Clubs so he can more easily defeat their rulers." Gilbert pointedly glared at Alfred. "A trap you're totally falling for."_

" _What can we do to stop him?" Arthur asked. Most tales of the Tarots were now fairy-tales and myth, but Gilbert was living proof that the old powers existed. Aside from that, Arthur knew more than anyone that a threat existed thanks to the assassination attempt._

" _I've done everything I can, but it's up to you three now," the albino answered promptly. "Tomorrow, he will regain half his strength and power. I cannot stop him from rising. However, there is a chance that you can destroy him completely but it has to be through the combined effort of the Spade monarchy."_

" _Why? If more powerful warriors could only subdue him, why must we be the ones to end him completely?" Alfred interrupted._

" _Because he's taking a shortcut," Gilbert smirked for the first time since appearing. "Black magic, like I said. He's betting that he'll be able to kill all three of you easily in return to gain back half his powers before a natural time. If you three kill him instead, the black magic he had so faithfully used will devour him and he will never again rise."_

 _No one spoke. Alfred, Yao and Arthur exchanged silent glances as the information sunk in to its full enormity. Gilbert tapped on the desk and a parcel appeared on it._

" _These clothes will disguise you for your journey in the night and will protect you for your battle," he said. "You must find him by tomorrow and end him before he can cause any more destruction. He knows of my existence and has obscured his movement from me so I can't help you locate him. But if you find a seer, someone he will overlook, you have a better chance of finding him before it's too late. Fate is in your hands and in your hands, I leave it."_

 _With that, he was gone._

The ride lasted only a few hours, but Arthur felt sick and weary with anxiousness tightening in the pit of his stomach. Each ruler had a weapon close at hand; Arthur with his bow and quiver, Alfred had a broadsword strapped to his back, and Yao had dual swords sheathed on each side of his waist. Through the darkness the Kirkland mansion loomed, a few lights from within still visible from the outside. Alfred, heading the small procession, nudged his horse into a trot to cover the final distance quickly. They pulled their horses to a stop and all dismounted and rushed to the door, Arthur more hesitantly so, and were soon admitted and led to Mr. Kirkland's study.

Arthur's father rose from his chair by the fire, surprise written clearly on his face. He wasn't a man to show expression often, especially anything considered weak, but given the circumstances of the three royals bursting in Arthur didn't blame him. Sitting opposite him was Mrs. Kirkland, she too rose in surprise. Her hair that was normally tied up was draped freely over her shoulders like a red veil.

"We don't have time for formalities," Alfred quickly cut him off before Mr. Kirkland could even utter a word. "The entire Kingdom is in danger and we need to know who gave you the prophesy about Arthur's future."

There was a pause, then the older man's face grew hard. "Forgive me, You're Majesty, but I cannot indulge that person's identity."

"We need to find them before morning!" Alfred snapped.

Yao tapped the impatient King on the arm and turned his almond eyes toward the man by the fire. "Our meaning must not be taken so lightly. At this very moment, an old magic is being awoken and a foe greater than anyone can hope to match threatens to destroy this kingdom and claim it for their own. Should this happen, the entire world will eventually fall into war as this foe intends to dominate not just our kingdom, but all lands." He paused and seeing it still had no effect, said softly, "We ourselves just discovered his identity, but we had known he was after the monarchy of Spades since the attempted assassination on your son's life. He knows no mercy or kindness, he will murder each of us without second thought as well as any man, woman or child who stands in his way."

Pain deepened the lines on Mr. Kirkland's face and his facade of hardness shattered. He shook his head helplessly, like a man who knew he was doomed. "I can't..."

"Father, please," Arthur at last stepped forward, disturbed by the scene. "We vow to never reveal who this person was, but we must speak with them or all will be lost."

Before the man could respond, Mrs. Kirkland stepped in front of him, as if shielding him from a threat. She looked directly at Arthur with such a regal air he was convinced that she was the queen and not him.

"I am here," she said. "What can I do?"

For a long moment, a stunned silence resounded through the room like the emptiness in the air after the sharp crack of lightning. Then Arthur felt oxygen rush his lungs until he choked, a thousand thoughts overwhelming his senses.

"Mother?"

She smiled a little and folded her hands in front of her, tossing her fiery hair over her shoulder. "I was the one who prophesied your future, Arthur. I met your father on the streets of a small village in the highlands, where I told fortunes to make extra money. We had loved each other long before I gave him the prophesy and he knew the danger I would be in should my abilities be known at large. He swore to protect me so he married me and has thus kept his word faithfully. Do not hold a grudge against him, he has undergone many burdens to keep his family safe."

In quiet defeat, Mr. Kirkland sat down on the edge of his chair and held his head in his hands. Arthur was speechless. He hadn't realized his vision had tunneled and that he was gasping stupidly like a fish on dry land. Mrs. Kirkland stepped forward and gently guided her son to a chair where he sat, trying to understand what he was hearing.

"Mrs. Kirkland, we need to know where the Tarot King is rising," Yao spoke up and bowed respectfully toward the lady. "It is urgent we stop him before the sun sets tomorrow."

She looked at the Jack, then Alfred before stretching out her arm. "Give me your hand."

The two rulers hesitated and then stepped forward to do as they were bid. Yao held Mrs. Kirkland's hand and Alfred placed his over-top theirs. Arthur's mother turned her gaze toward him and gently intertwined their fingers with her free hand, kissing him on the forehead.

"Mother," Arthur heard himself say.

"Hush," she whispered. "All will be well. You must do your duty and return here again so we can talk."

He nodded and she closed her eyes.

All that could be heard was the ticking of a clock, the rhythm maddeningly steady despite the chaos that was on the brink of breaking out. Time was truly immune to all, neither good nor evil. Then Arthur felt his mother's slender fingers tighten around his hand and heard a sharp intake of breath. A chill ran down his spine at her voice, cold and foreign, uttering even darker words.

" _Fates shall be met and fulfilled, where King's Blood will be spilled_."

"I know where that is," Yao stated immediately as they all let go.

"I didn't hear her say any location," Alfred said, clearly confused.

The Jack rolled his eyes and crossed the room in rapid strides. "It's an old legend, there was a great battle between several kings and they felled each other, now that place is called King's Blood. We have to hurry, it will take a hard ride all morning to reach it."

Arthur felt rooted in place, he hadn't even realized he hadn't moved an inch until Alfred gently touched his arm.

"Come on, let's go," he said.

The Queen numbly rose. "I will return," he told his parents, then allowed himself to be guiding out of the house and back onto his horse. As they urged their horses into full gallop, rushing toward the threat with Yao leading the way, Arthur felt a dread rush him. Yao had taken the information as a location due to Gilbert's prompting, Alfred had followed that assumption since he had no knowledge of such things, but Arthur knew that had been no simple guidance. That had been a prophesy about to come into reality all too quickly.

–

As Yao stated, it took them the rest of that night and long into the next morning before they reached King's Blood. The exact place was on a large hill overlooking a lake that stretched into the horizon like a sea, morning mist hanging low over the ground and water, the sun just barely rising. Arthur vaulted off his horse and caught himself before he could stumble at the landing, Alfred wasn't as graceful and skid to his knees on the slick grass. They ran up the hill and all stopped short at the realization that they weren't alone.

The man stood tall with a self-righteous pride, his shoulders broad and his arms large like a beast's, his barrel chest covered in a plain plate of armor. His body was almost as if he were built specifically for war rather than born naturally, he was an intimidating weapon of a man. When he turned to look at the approaching rulers, Arthur could see his eyes were jet black and the air around him seemed to darken from the intensity of his magic.

"It's been a while since we last met," he said with a shallow grin, his voice throaty and deep like a growl. "It would've been easier to kill you as a child, but there isn't any fun in that, is there?"

Arthur's grip on his bow tightened, not sure what to make of the man's words until he glanced to his companions. Yao's jaw was visibly locked and the Jack immediately drew his double swords. The instant his weapons were drawn, the commoner clothes Gilbert had provided transformed into glistening armor. Alfred, on the other hand, stood frozen as white as a sheet.

"Alfred?"

This seemed to bring him out of his stupor. The young king reached across his shoulder and drew his sword, metal plating forming to serve as protection for the upcoming fight. "I should've known it was you."

The Tarot King laughed. "It was difficult to find you after your mother worked so hard to hide you from me, but alas she betrayed her own sons in her last moments of life. The poor fool told exactly where I could find you. Honestly, it was easy to get the position to care for little street rats. Yet my effort would have been such a waste to end it all at once by killing you immediately. I suppose it was my own fault for being so kind."

"You were weak," Alfred replied coldly. "You couldn't kill me until you were strong enough."

"Alfred," Arthur said quietly, trying to reign him back in. It couldn't be seen at a distance but it was easy to see up close Alfred's shaking hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword. The Queen knew better than anyone how furious the young man was. One reckless slip up could be fatal to any of them.

"That is not the case this time. I'm so pleased to see you now, it makes killing you so much easier," The Tarot King lifted his arms in a gesture and the sun broke behind the horizon at the same moment. The ground seemed to shake and the air thickened with power. The already giant man grew a full foot taller before their very eyes, black and gold armor adorning him with evil majesty, the helmet that formed around his head rose in thin spikes at the top like a crown. Out of the ground, forged within seconds by magic, a large sword with a black blade rose and the king took it.

Arthur quickly notched an arrow to his bow, feeling armor grow around him like a second skin, and shivered. "Don't let that sword touch you. It's covered in black magic," he warned.

"Got it," Alfred said simply and charged.

Arthur could feel the air shift and the magic surrounding the evil king grew concentrated. Frantically, he threw up a protection spell just in time and managed to deflect the blow that had been directed at Alfred. Yao flanked the Tarot King, moving lightening fast. The flash of his blades were the only warning before the King howled in pain and swung his sword at the Jack. Alfred bounded forward at the same time Arthur let loose an arrow, each blow landing and drove the Tarot back. Furiously, the giant swung his sword at Alfred's head, who ducked in the nick of time. Yao struck again and allowed the young Spade time to move out of direct danger. The three rulers moved as one body, not needing to speak to each other in order to communicate their next moves. Arthur stood back, focusing primarily on deflecting and casting spells as he shot arrow after arrow. Yao moved with ease and speed, striking to cause damage before pulling back in an instant, giving Alfred enough opening to make a heavier attack. Arthur marveled at how well the fight was going for them, he had expected much worse.

Just as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the tables turned. A swift kick threw Yao several feet away, the sound of bones breaking reverberating through Arthur's head followed by a dull thud as the Jack's body hit the ground. Alfred was abruptly faced with the full wrath of the Tarot King and it was clear his own skill and strength was beginning to falter. From his position, Arthur could see every cunning trick and maneuver pulled to wear Alfred down and he could clearly see killing blow in its preparation phase, like seeing a giant cat crouch before pouncing. He hadn't have time to scream or warn Alfred, he could only act. Mustering his energy and magic, he furiously ran forward and unleashed as much force as he could. His hands felt as if they were on fire and he thrust them forward, a torrent of flames enveloping the Tarot King. Only a second later, a _crack_ resounded through the air and Arthur's spell broke as slivers of pain rushed down his back. Air rushed out of his lungs, he couldn't breathe or scream as he toppled over, unaware of what spell had hit him, his vision flickering like a candle about to go out. He heard Alfred shout something. Numbly he pushed his hands underneath him to prop himself up, and blinked at the bow in front of him on the ground. Arthur took it and forced himself to his knees, notching an arrow to the string as he lifted his head.

Alfred stood alone before the Tarot King, the giant before him had his black sword raised high and brought it down in a single swipe. Arthur watched in horror as Alfred stumbled back, raised his own sword to protect himself – too late. Flesh was sliced and blood poured onto the hill. The Spade King stumbled back a few steps more, his sword ripped away from his grasp and forgotten, one hand clutching at his torso. Alfred stood as if suspended by taunt strings and then suddenly collapsed.

Now Arthur screamed, unsure if it was out of rage or grief, and forced himself to his feet as he drew the arrow back and fired. His emotions alone fueled the spell that flew with the arrow and sparks shot out of the black helmet it hit its intended target. Blinded, the Tarot King screeched and swung his sword uselessly, throwing curses in the air at random. Arthur drew another arrow, the need for revenge keeping him on his feet, and aimed for the bastard King's heart. This would end. Fingers relaxed as he released the string and the arrow hissed as it pulled away from the bow.

Time lengthened. Arthur felt disjointed from the world and the pain dulled as his own pulse beat incredibly slow, he could only move as if swimming through an ocean of molasses. The sharp electricity in the air alerted him to magic; something powerful was taking place, something that had come neither from him nor the Tarot King. All sound was drowned out by the ticking of a clock, steady as it counted the seconds carelessly. He watched as his arrow flew toward its writhing target and hit precisely. Air exploded as the ground and sky were ripped open, the Tarot King screamed as he was pulled particle by particle, atom by atom, into black pieces that were sucked by cold space. Then the air vacuumed in force, like a slammed door and time resumed its normal pace. The enemy had been defeated and was completely wiped out of existence.

Stunned, Arthur stood frozen for a moment before he turned his eyes toward Alfred. The Spade King was sitting up, a pocket watch in his hand with his thumb rested over its center as if he had just closed the lid. Blood ran down his front, from his stomach to the saliva mixed blood bubbling from his mouth. His blue eyes, once so bright with energy and life, were vacant and unseeing. A sigh escaped him and he slumped over. Arthur didn't realize he was sobbing as he stumbled toward his husband and collapsed at his side, pulling Alfred close as he numbly begged him to stay alive. He didn't know how long he had stayed like that before a someone spoke softly to him and touched his shoulder. The exertion was too much, and Arthur passed out.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I apologize for suddenly rushing the pace of the story, but I'm pretty tired of having this fic hanging unfinished over my head. I lost all motivation to put effort into writing the rest of the story. I had never intended this project to last for over a year. It's never really been my best work, but I have learned a lot from writing it. If this story didn't have as much readers then I would have simply abandoned it long ago. So, for you guys, I'm finishing it up within two chapters-this being the first.**

 **Thank you everyone who has been following, favoriting, reviewing and just simply reading! I've always appreciated knowing that someone out there enjoyed what I wrote. I hope that, even though this story is ending, your support never will.**

 **Expect an equally rushed chapter within a few days. Until then...*salutes***


	16. Chapter 15

_Warning: patchy ending._

* * *

 **Chapter XV.**

When Arthur opened his eyes again, his surroundings were far from what he had expected them to be. Instead of a sky stretching endlessly overhead, there was a ceiling, pillars and walls creating a small and modest room with no furniture except a chair, an empty table and the bed he lay on. Disoriented, he almost thought that everything had been a dream and slowly sat up. Pain raced up his back and he collapsed against the mattress, hissing as his eyes watered.

"You shouldn't move yet," a gentle voice said.

Arthur hadn't heard anyone enter the room and tensed. Once vision returned to him and he looked at the face leaning over the bed, he relaxed. His voice was hoarse and shook unsteadily, "I'm glad you're alright, Alfred."

That was all he had managed to say before Alfred shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm not Alfred. I'm Matthew, his brother."

"Brother?" It took Arthur a moment to remember Alfred mentioning him. The King hadn't seemed eager to say much about his twin brother after initially acknowledging said brother's existence. "How? What happened? Where am I?"

"You're not far from King's Blood, it's across the lake," Matthew explained calmly. "I saw you all on the hill and I brought you here so that you could rest and heal. It's a mage hospital, we practice healing magics and alleviating curses." At Arthur's blank look, Matthew shrugged. "It's been around for a long time, but not many people know about it."

Arthur had more questions, but he decided they weren't as important. "Where are Yao and Alfred?"

"Yao is already up and about. He's been helping us with little chores. We've healed all the serious internal damage done to him, but he still has a few broken ribs. He won't stay still and he wants to heal naturally." As he spoke, Matthew placed a tray on the table and began sorting through bandages and medicines. He turned to Arthur and nudged his shoulder in a silent gesture for him to turn over. Arthur complied and Matthew administered soothing medicine to the wounds on his back. "You were hit with a nasty curse, we've taken as much power as we can out of it, but it's going to stay with you for the rest of your life. It's not fatal though."

Ignoring the information on his own injuries, Arthur shifted and gave the healer a hard look. "Where is Alfred and how is he?"

Matthew faltered and grew silent. He finished his task of patching up the wounds on Arthur's back before sitting in the chair. He bowed his head and suddenly his shoulders trembled. "Alfred's dying."

* * *

The room was filled with a gentle glow, a small spell to bring warmth and comfort to its occupants, especially the suffering patients. There were two beds; one in the middle of the room with a large table beside it. On the table was the black sword, still pumping with life and evil magic like a heart. Arthur could barely stand to look at it and only had eyes for his husband. Alfred lay as still as death, barely breathing, and was so pale the light of the room could do nothing to make him look alive. It was the worst sight Arthur had ever beheld, but he couldn't look away.

"The sword is still killing him," Matthew said hollowly, his red rimmed eyes dry. "It thrives on human lives, the more it kills the more powerful it becomes. Once it draws blood, it won't release its victim It's an evil weapon that's been used for hundreds of years and its magic is now too strong for us to fight."

Arthur's throat closed and he nodded silently. He had sensed its power, but he hadn't been aware of the full extent until now. Now that he was watching the one person he loved most in the world die under its influence. He clenched his crossed arms tighter as he shook.

"There has to be something we can do," he said.

Matthew shook his head. "It's too strong. We can't stop it."

The Queen sighed heavily and leaned back against his pillows. After the healer's brutal news, he had leaped of bed and rushed out of his room to find Alfred. The effort was too much on his broken body and he had collapsed before making it two steps into the hall and Matthew wad forced to gracelessly drag him back to bed. Even on the brink of passing out again, Arthur had sharply demanded that he be moved to Alfred's room and then blacked out. He hadn't expected his wishes to be granted, but when he woke he found himself in a room stranger than his own had been with Matthew still at his side. Matthew had explained that the other healers thought it best to cooperate with Arthur to prevent him from doing something so reckless again, and that's when Arthur sat up to see his husband on his deathbed.

"What if we simply delay it?" Arthur didn't even process the words before they were out of his mouth. It startled him just as much as it did Matthew, but the idea had been planted and he grasped firmly on it. For the sake of his own sanity, he had to try.

"What?"

"Alfred will die, but not any time soon. Not if I can help it."

* * *

Despite Arthur's bold declaration, it took him days of trial and error to go take the same steps the mages already had and realize what a hopeless cause it was. However, he refused to give up and accept that death was inevitable. Leaving his husband to die would be an act as evil as murder, especially since Alfred himself was unconsciously clinging to life so desperately to last so long. Even Matthew was surprised he was still alive after days of being stabbed, and while Arthur was thankful for the extra time, he knew it wouldn't be long. He couldn't delay.

"How did you come to be here?" Arthur asked, exhaustion overcoming him. He sank into his pillows and stared sullenly at the black sword, still throbbing with life more visibly than Alfred currently was.

"After Alfred ran away, the man who was abusing us left not long afterwards. He had started to single me out himself, but I was very good at hiding," Matthew answered softly. The difficulty of his past didn't seem to both him. "We were left on our own for a long time before someone discovered the man had abandoned his job and began to set up a better system for the orphans. It would've been nice to stay, but I couldn't stand the thought of Alfred alone in the great unknown. Or even worse, that man finding him and hurting him more. I left to find Alfred. Instead, I found this place. They gave me food and shelter in exchange for doing little chores like cooking and cleaning. This was the first place I could call home. I still missed Alfred, I even gave up hope and thought he had died, but I decided to stay."

Arthur shifted his gaze from the sword to the man as his side, now seeing the glassy layer of tears in his eyes, frozen and threatening to fall.

Matthew continued. "I thought I would never see my brother again. Then I...I felt him. I can't explain it, but I just knew that he was alive and near. I had to find him. So I took a boat and crossed the lake and..."

Green eyes wandered to Alfred's face. "I'm sorry."

Matthew was silent for a moment, collecting himself, but when he was about to respond Arthur suddenly sat up straight, a look of intense focus on his face. The healer stood up worriedly.

"What did you say? You _felt_ Alfred?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Matthew was too surprised to answer in any way other than bluntly.

"How?"

He hesitated. "I don't know. I knew it in my heart, I could feel his own beat inside of me. I could feel a shift in the air like he was beside me. I could practically see him smiling at me. It was like we were connected for a brief moment and he wanted me to come find him."

"I need paper and as many healers that can be spared," Arthur said firmly. "We will create a magic that has never been done before."

* * *

 _The concept is simple: two souls linked for the remainder of their lives. Every person's life is wholly their own, but what if a magic greater than any recorded would connect the two so that one might be dependent on the other? A lifeline of sorts._

 _The power of the sword that is killing Alfred is preventing him from healing to the extent it blocks any magic that opposes it, then it sucks the life away from the body like a mosquito does blood. Alfred has been resisting its power completely on his own and using precious life to do so. If this spell goes according to plan, than his soul will be linked to mine and I will give him parts of my own life so that he might live. It won't last forever, he will die someday and probably sooner than most. But I cannot stand letting him go now. At least, in this way, we will be able to depart together, as one._

 _As the sword sucks at Alfred's life, I will replace it with my own. The sword cannot effect me since it has never drawn my blood. I must be careful never to even touch the blade or I risk killing us both. Because I'm untouchable to the sword, I can also heal in my own time and possibly regain a little life I lose. It's all theory and uncertain, but if it works I shall be bound to Alfred and he to me until the day we die, long into the future and together. If it does not work, we both may die today. I'm not afraid, if the worst should happen then so be it. I'd rather die knowing I did all I could to bring Alfred back where he belongs, to bring him back to me._

-Excerpt from Queen Arthur's private journals, stored in the Spadian Tarot Library.

* * *

 **Several Years Later**

Arthur savored the smell of fresh air as it rustled through the leaves, spreading the sweet aroma of the roses surrounding them beyond the garden, the soft trickle of the water in the fountain soothing to the ears. Walks with Alfred through the Rose Garden was one of his favorite pass times. The garden took them away from the business of their duties, away from the stuffiness of indoors, and gave them a chance to simply be with one another. Most of the time, the energetic King would chatter about anything silly to amuse his Queen, but today they were both silent. The Queen had never felt more at peace with the world than he did now. The strife that once was couldn't reach him now.

Arthur tilted his head up to look at Alfred standing solemnly beside him, his expression unusually heavy. "Does it hurt?"

Blue eyes blinked in surprise and the King turned his attention from his thoughts to Arthur. "No," he replied, then hesitated. "Sometimes. It's not bad."

Arthur reached out and took his calloused hand, intertwining their fingers as he kissed the back of the King's hand. "I wish I could more, my love."

"You've already done enough," Alfred smiled, painfully bittersweet and gently massaged his thumb over Arthur's knuckles. For a moment more they clung to each other and Arthur poured all of his affection and comfort into the simple, tender gesture in the hopes it would drive away the darkness of his King's worries. At last, Alfred pulled his hand away and grinned brightly. "Let's walk some more."

"Yes," Arthur agreed and lay his hand over the soft blanket draped across his legs.

Alfred assumed position behind him and began pushing his wheeled chair down the pebbled path, walls of beautiful roses lining each side of it, the clear blue sky stretching above as a majestic ceiling. Arthur tilted his head back as a small smile graced his lips. Saving Alfred had permanently crippled him, a side effect that he hadn't foreseen. Alfred had been devastated when he finally woke and Arthur could tell he was still remorseful over it, thinking it was his fault the Queen had given up so much for him. Yet Arthur didn't regret his decision. By their combined strength, they now lived peacefully at together and would never again have to fear the separation of death.

 _ **The End**_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Thank you everyone who read, reviewed, favorite-d and followed! Your support, your patience and all of your encouragement is really what motivated me to write this story to its conclusion, even if it ended very suddenly. There's probably a lot of plot holes and stuff I left unresolved, but I hope despite its roughness that it's satisfying enough for you guys.**

 **I probably sounded really discouraged in my last note section and I want to assure everyone that it's only because of one thing: this story wasn't finished. Now that it is, I'm eager to move on to other (and hopefully better) stories and I hope your support will continue to be there as it always has been. This story may be over, but I'm far from done.**

 ** _By Our Strength_ is dedicated to you faithful readers. Without you, this never would have been given an ending.**


End file.
